


Antichrist

by RedxxWolf



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Anti-Christian themes, Atheism, Biblical References, Christianity, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Incest, Multi, Paranormal, Satanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-03-18 01:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13671288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedxxWolf/pseuds/RedxxWolf
Summary: "Set in a dystopian future in which the Christian Church has seized power, we follow the story of a young woman named Eden, who has been imprisoned due the mysterious death of her husband.  Without an alibi or witnesses, torture and death seem certain.  Just as she is about to resign herself to her fate, she is rescued by a handsome stranger named Zel, who promises to free her from her sentence in exchange for entering into a contract with his unnamed boss.  But it doesn't take long for Eden to realize that this isn't going to be a typical day job.  Pious and naive, she is suddenly thrown into a dark underworld of sin, sex, and vice.  As she deals with her everyday burdens and fends off the vicious attacks of her co-workers, she becomes increasingly enamored with her enigmatic employer, a man whose identity only grows more confusing with each new piece of information she learns.Armed with nothing but an inquisitive mind and a passion for truth, she must find a way to navigate her way through her trials without succumbing to temptation.  But the more she learns about the world, the more she discovers about her own identity, and even God himself cannot stop the terrible powers within her from awakening. "





	1. Chapter 1

“So. Eden… Bennett? Is it?”

 

The girl dipped her chin once.

 

“Maiden name… St. Louise. You’re an orphan?”

 

Her nod was almost imperceptible.

 

He studied her seated figure briefly. Flaming orange hairs lined her forehead, peeking out beneath a charcoal black veil. Her matching dress set off the whiteness of her skin, made somehow paler by the florescent lighting overhead. Her eyes were downcast, studying her hands which, judging by the slight movements of her elbows, she was slowly wringing in her lap. Every now and again, though, her eyes would widen, revealing a flash of blue, darting up to regard the man standing on the other side of the table, before being concealed once again beneath fluttering blonde lashes.

 

He was far enough away that he could see her feet beneath the table; thick black stockings and buckled shoes, knees and toes pressed tightly together. One of her heels vibrated against the tile floor rapidly.

 

Giving the open manila folder in his palm one more cursory glance, he set it down carefully. He slid the green steel folding chair back to give himself enough clearance to sit down. The girl winced slightly at the painful metallic scrape it made, then sighed as he settled into it, scooting it a couple of times until his stomach nearly touched the edge.

 

Back and forth, his gaze shifted between the file and the girl. After a few moments, he cleared his throat, setting his elbows firmly on the surface and lacing his fingers. “My name is Father Levi. I’ll be taking your confession today.”

 

She didn’t appear to react. She just kept staring down at her hands. The tap of her heel clacked on and on into the stagnant atmosphere of the room. The Father gave her a couple moments to respond, if she desired. He took a deep breath, raised his index finger beneath his chin and rubbed the coarse hairs of his beard against his knuckle. About fifteen seconds passed – he kept the time by the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. Each tick coincided with about three taps of her heel.

 

“Do you know why you’re here?”

 

More silence. Out of propriety, he waited another fifteen seconds. He exhaled audibly, giving the papers in front of him a shuffle before resuming his pose.

 

“You’ve been accused of murdering your husband.”

 

The stuttering of her heel slowed, tapering into stillness. The tiny jolts in her arms halted as she pressed her fingertips into her palms. She didn’t even blink, though, allowing the Father’s words to wash over her. A tinge of pink rose to the apples of her cheeks, and she swallowed thickly.

 

“I didn’t kill my husband,” she murmured.

 

“Beg your pardon?”

 

“I didn’t kill my husband.” She leveled with his gaze, her voice rising with a touch of agitation.

 

Levi rested his chin on his hands, waiting a beat before going on. “It says here...” he paused to glance down and shift one of the papers with his fingertips, “That your late husband, Bartholomew Bennett, was found dead in his home last Monday.”

 

“That’s right,” she said meekly.

 

“His employer expressed concern about the fact that he did not report to work Thursday and Friday the previous week, and when he failed to report for duty on Monday, he alerted the local authorities.”

 

“Correct.”

 

The corners of Levi’s mouth turned down slightly, and he shifted his shoulders. “When the Inquisitor found him, he had been dead for at least four days. His wife of two and a half years, Mrs. Eden Bennett, was conspicuously absent.”

 

As his brows lowered and he leaned in slightly, Eden went back to looking timidly at her hands. Her chest expanded as she sucked in a deep breath, and her eyelids squinted shut as she let it out.

 

“Train receipts show you departing from Springfield on Thursday morning, direct to Sinai.”

 

The Father rested his forearms on the desk and sank back into his chair. He absently tapped his index finger against the wood, looking almost smug as he went on. “Into the belly of the beast, so to speak.”

 

No response. Twenty ticks of the second hand.

 

Levi reached into his robes with his left hand and withdrew a cigarette, followed shortly by a flip lighter. He tore his focus away from Eden only momentarily to ignite it, then honed back in on her face, lest he miss something. He fixed the filter between his lips and took a deep pull of smoke. He inhaled sharply in time with tearing it away from his mouth, reaching without looking for the ashtray to his right.

 

She watched him surreptitiously during the process. As the first wisp of smoke stung her nostrils, she reflexively ran her tongue over her lips.

 

“You want one?”

 

Eden bobbed her head up and down once. Setting his smoke on the lip of the ashtray, he retrieved another, holding it by the white end as he extended his arm to her. She almost snatched it from his hand before wedging it in the corner of her mouth. He took out his lighter one more time, snapping the top open with a flick of his wrist before thumbing it to life. Eden leaned in and allowed the end of it to ignite, but only just, before settling back into her chair, making a point to avoid eye contact all the while.

 

Levi tucked the silver lighter back into his breast pocket and recovered his cigarette, giving it a firm tap to discard the excess ash before taking another puff. “As I was saying,” he continued, blowing the spent smoke in his lungs up toward the ceiling, “You departed by train Thursday morning from your home in Springfield, purchasing a one-way ticket to Sinai.”

 

“Yes,” she mumbled.

 

“I’m just curious...” Levi nudged the ashtray until it was roughly equal distance between them. “What instinct told you to head towards the Capital just after you murdered your husband?”

 

“I told you, I didn’t kill him!”

 

The sudden rise in her voice sent shockwaves through the air. She sneered at him, but only momentarily, before choking on the boldness of her own words. Pressing her lips together, she hurriedly lowered her eyes once again.

 

Levi remained expressionless in light of her outburst, and calmly went about puffing away on his cigarette. “If you didn’t kill him, then who did?”

 

“Nobody _killed_ him...” she uttered softly.

 

His face tightened ever so slightly as he leaned forward, looking down at the file. He pinched the corner of one page and flipped it over, revealing a ruled sheet filled with hastily scrawled notes. “Upon entering the residence, we noticed a foul odor, which seemed to be coming from the second floor,” he read flatly. “When we entered the bedroom, we discovered the body of a man. He was completely naked, face down on one side of the mattress.His bowels had been voided, the feces marbled with dark red blood. The body was bloating, and his skin had a purplish tint, signifying that he had been deceased for some time…”

 

Levi pressed his finger to the page and traced it downward, skimming over a chunk of the text. “Upon closer examination of the body, we saw a ring of dried blood staining the pillow and sheets around the victim’s head, extending roughly three quarters of an inch around it, unbroken.”

 

He spoke slowly for emphasis, glancing up at her between sentences. “When the coroner arrived, we assisted him in flipping the victim to his back in order to better ascertain the cause of death. The source of the blood on the victim’s pillow appears to have originated from the mouth and nose. Coroner is unable to determine cause of death at this time.”

 

He paused, but only to turn the page over, revealing another. “Two witnesses positively identified the body as belonging to a Mr. Bartholomew Bennett. Married approximately two years to Eden Bennett. No children.”

 

The Father stopped, inhaling a hit of smoke. Eden seemed to have forgotten about the cigarette between her fingers, which was accumulating a steadily lengthening head of ash.

 

“In light of eyewitness testimony describing a turbulent relationship, along with the mysterious disappearance of the victim’s wife, the coroner has concluded the likely cause of death to be arsenic poisoning.”

 

Her eyes had now wandered to some arbitrary spot on the back wall and she stared blankly at it. As Levi awaited some kind of acknowledgment from her, he felt unable to focus on anything but her cigarette, which was now dangerously close to dropping its ashes onto the varnished surface of the table. Suppressing a grunt of annoyance, he slid the ashtray forward until it rested just under her hand.

 

The cold glass bumping her skin snapped her out of her trance. Eden blinked several times, quickly meeting his steely gray stare before looking away again, this time with a touch of embarrassment. As if it were an afterthought, she ashed her cigarette and took a short puff, resuming the bouncing of her heel.

 

“I didn’t poison him,” she said flatly.

 

“That may be. But according to the neighbors, you two didn’t exactly get along.”

 

All at once, her face twisted up into an indignant scowl, or as much of one as she dared. “It’s not like I had a choice.”

 

“What, to marry him?”

 

“Mhmm.”

 

“Life is full of choices, Eden,” he said gravely. “Nobody forced you to marry him.”

 

She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “It didn’t feel like much of a choice.”

 

“Regardless,” he said, reaching across the table to snub his cigarette, “You knew what was expected of you. You took sacred vows, to love, honor, and obey. The scripture requires you to be submissive.”

 

“Believe me, Father, I tried.” She sucked the last bit of tobacco down to the filter, then mashed the lit end into the ashtray several times before releasing it. “For the better part of a year.”

 

“Was he unkind to you?”

 

Eden took a heavy breath. The argumentative spark she had been nurturing was doused by a wave of bitterness, made known by the subtle sinking of her features. She wiped her damp palms along the top of her thighs before settling them there. Her fingers curled in, trapping some of the thick fabric of her skirt in nervous fists.

 

Levi’s heavy, black brows relaxed against his face, framing his eyes in a look that was something like sympathy. He laid his forearms flat on the table and leaned in slightly, as if he were a close friend ready to receive a dire secret.

 

“Eden,” he said, his deep baritone dropping even lower into his chest. “Did your husband abuse you?”

 

Her throat constricted with an audible gulp as she swallowed nothing. A dewy sheen of moisture clouded over her eyes, and the whites tinged a slight shade of pink. Then her head dropped, her eyelids sealed shut, and she tucked her chin against her chest, but not before managing a few scant up and down shakes of her head.

 

He leaned in closer still, letting his shoulders fall in time with a despondent sigh. “I’m sorry,” he offered. Any sincerity the phrase might have carried, however, was wiped away as he briskly went on. “If he was abusive, then you should have brought your case before the Bishop.”

 

She let out a short ‘hmph’ under her breath and blinked back her tears. “A lot of good that would have done me.”

 

“You don’t think you would have had a solid case?”

 

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” she said wryly with a subtle roll of her eyes. “It wouldn’t have mattered how many bruises or scars… or how many of our neighbors heard him...” She shook her head resolutely. “No woman ever wins those.”

 

“Some of them do. You never know until you try.”

 

“Yeah, and if I _did_ win, I’d be back in a convent where I started.”

 

Levi sat up straighter in his chair, donning a more lecturing tone. “Yes. But it’s a lot better than prison, and a death sentence, don’t you think?”

 

She snapped her head back up, narrowing her eyes at him. “I didn’t kill him!” she bit out, coming down hard on every word.

 

“Really?” he smirked. “Then why did you run?”

 

Her jaw clenched shut, and angry breaths whistled in and out of her nostrils.

 

“If you were innocent, you would have had nothing to fear. You would have gone to the Inquisition yourself, rather than leaving him to rot.”

 

“Put yourself in my position. There was no one around when he died. Who’s going to believe - ”

 

“Alright then. If you didn’t kill him, then how did he die?”

 

Eden’s eyes darted somewhere off to the left, a hint of shame mingling with her agitation.

 

“I… I don’t know.”

 

Silence, followed by thirteen ticks of the clock. “Was he… ill preceding his death?”

 

Eden shook her head. “No. Not that I was aware of, anyway.”

 

“Did he have any unhealthy habits? Was he a heavy drinker?”

 

“Oh yes,” she said, with the faintest touch of a chortle in her throat. “He drank constantly.”

 

“Perhaps it was alcohol poisoning?”

 

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

 

“Well then,” Levi said, opening his hands and laying them to the side disarmingly, “Why don’t you describe to me what happened?”

 

She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, her eyes flickering up to his and down a few times. It was apparent that she didn’t want to discuss the details for whatever reason. Levi glanced at the clock to check the time, making a little “tsk” against his teeth and shifting in his chair. Sighing and sulking impatiently, he tried to keep her talking. “You can tell me,” he offered, trying his best to be soothing. “I don’t wish to see you convicted of murder. The only way you can avoid that fate is by convincing the Cardinals that you were not involved in your husband’s death. So if you have any pertinent information…”

 

“I honestly don’t know.” She slumped her shoulders in exasperation, staring at the Father plaintively. “It just… happened.”

 

“What exactly were you doing? The Inquisitors said they found him naked. Was there a reason for that?”

 

She flinched, tightening her fists.

 

“Were you having intercourse?”

 

A touch of color appeared in her cheeks, followed by a shy nod.

 

“It’s alright. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

She shook her head up and down quickly, trying to convince herself inwardly that it was indeed appropriate to broach the subject. He was a priest, after all. But he was still a stranger, and a man, and she harbored an inflated sense of modesty that made her hesitant to add any more detail. “He was… on top of me when it happened.”

 

Levi dipped his chin in affirmation, then held it up between his thumb and forefinger. “Go on.”

 

She began to bounce her heel again, squinting her eyes tightly shut as she spoke. “He was...” she swallowed dryly, “...he was forcing himself on me.” +

 

“I see. Did he do this often?”

 

“All the time.”

 

The Father frowned a little. “Did you ever engage in sex with him willingly?”

 

“The first time I did, yes,” she relented, recoiling somewhat at her own words. “On our wedding night. I knew that I had to.”

 

“How was that first experience?”

 

Eden drew her chin closer to her neck, attempting physically to suppress the nausea that began to rise in her throat. “Awful. It hurt… a lot.”

 

“So following your initial coupling, you never consented willingly to any sexual activity?”

 

“That’s correct, Father.” The wetness in her eyes returned, a thick rim of tears pooling in her bottom lids. She sniffled and wiped her nose against her sleeve quickly before resuming her demure position.

 

Levi stroked his chin for a moment, a thoughtful crease appearing between his eyebrows. “So what exactly transpired leading up to his death?”

 

“I told you, nothing _happened._ ”

 

“Did he suddenly expire mid-coitus?” he asked warily.

 

“Pretty much!” she huffed. “He was… on top of me, like I said. Then he stopped moving, and went all stiff. A little bit of blood starting dripping out of his nose. Then he coughed and...” She swallowed just as hard as she could, squelching the gag that lurked in the back of her throat. “All this blood came out. And then he just collapsed on top of me.”

 

“Did he say anything before it happened?”

 

“No, Father.”

 

“Did he act strangely that evening? Give any indication that something was out of the ordinary?”

 

She shook her head no.

 

“So he simply died. No apparent cause. Completely spontaneous.”

 

She shook her head yes.

 

The Father grunted and let his forehead fall into his open palm. He breathed heavily for a moment before running his tired hand along his face, his fingers coming to a point on the fine hairs of his beard. “So you were an orphan. You married a man about whom, I would assume, you knew nothing. He was a drunk. He was physically abusive. Am I right in thinking that he was verbally abusive as well?”

 

Another nod.

 

“And you never, in your two and a half years of marriage, performed your marital duties willingly.”

 

Eden’s mouth was closed tightly, signaling that she had nothing more to add. She simply sat there, a slight tremor running along her arms as she resumed wringing her hands.

 

Levi leaned back in, craning his neck down in an attempt to recapture her eyes. “You do realize,” he began solemnly, “That the circumstances surrounding his death, particularly your relationship, are incredibly incriminating? You have more than enough motive. You were the only one present at the time of his death. And on top of everything else, you _fled_ the scene in the early morning hours following the incident.”

 

Her expression was nervous, but stone-still.

 

“Things don’t look good for you.”

 

The whites of her eyes were growing redder by the second. She sniffled a couple of times and pressed her lips together, doing whatever she could to avoid bursting into tears.

 

“You know, if you confessed, I could -”

 

“-I’m not going to confess to something I haven’t done!” She stared at him with doe eyes, awash with innocence and earnesty, a solitary tear falling from the outer corner of her eye and trickling along her cheek. Her chin began to quiver uncontrollably, even as she fought to clamp her teeth together.

 

Levi clucked his tongue and shook his head in consternation. He slid has hands together along the desk, gave a shuffle of the papers, and closed the envelope. He rose up from his chair, his body elevating slowly, as if it took him some extra effort. Then, he let out the breath he had been holding as he picked up the folder, tucking it against his chest.

 

“If you will not confess, then I cannot help you.”

 

He looked back down at her, regarding her diminutive form, the frightened tremors of her limbs, her pale face, hallowed with the realization of her impending fate. Then, tearing his face away, he walked briskly to the door and turned knob. But just as it clicked he turned halfway back, glancing over his shoulder. His voice rippled into the silence ominously, lowly, like distant thunder, rolling towards her until it exploded in her eardrums.

 

“May God have mercy on your soul.”

 

* * *

 

 

Eden lay on her side facing the wall, still in the clothes she had worn that day, apart from her shoes which she had slipped neatly under the bed. The silence was overwhelmingly complete, and the muffled echo of her heartbeat in her own ears was horrendously loud.

 

Still, it was preferable to the constant crying of the woman she had initially shared a holding cell with. After her disappointing session with Father Levi, she had been whisked off to an isolated part of the building. “Solitary,” the guard called it.

 

 _“_ _Why am I being moved?”_ she had ventured to ask him, risking a reprimanding strike of his crop.

 

 _“_ _Due to the violent nature of your crime,”_ he had replied tersely. Why she hadn’t been taken there in the first place she didn’t quite understand, but she was grateful for the quiet. She’d settle for having a cramped room with no window, clock, or anything else to speak of if it meant she didn’t have to suffer through that woman’s violent snoring again. She had been unable to sleep at all the previous night, and physical exhaustion was now compounding on top of her emotional stress. She desperately needed to sleep.

 

But the glaring white light in the ceiling never turned off, even after she was certain it was night time, and along with the Father’s harsh words playing over and over in her head, she found herself again unable to rest.

 

She tossed and turned. Ripping the pillow out from beneath her head, she smashed it over her face to block out the light. With her nosed pressed against the starchy fabric, she inhaled deeply, the strong odor of bleach permeating her sinuses. She rolled to her back and let the pillow rest over her face, her arms spread, doing her best to relax.

 

But then…

 

_Are those footsteps?_

 

It was nearly impossible to hear anything outside of the soundproof walls. She wondered momentarily if she might be hearing things, until she heard a deafening clank followed by the door creaking open.

 

The shock of the sound made her bolt rigidly upright. Her heart stuttered and she raised a protective hand to her neck as she furiously caught her breath.

 

“Rise and shine, princess!”

 

In swaggered a young man, swinging the weighty door effortlessly out of his way with a nudge of his shoulder.

 

She gaped rather openly at him, sweeping her wide, unblinking eyes over his visage as she tried to process the situation. He was wearing a simple black leather jacket with a high collar. It was unzipped, revealing a dark gray shirt underneath with something indiscernible on it. His long, lean legs were clad in navy denim, and his thick-soled black boots were in pristine condition, their only imperfection being a light coating of moisture from the outside drizzle.

 

“Oh good, you’re already dressed.”

 

Her eyes swept back up to his grinning face. Bright white teeth glinted between his lips as he spoke, set off by the rich caramel tone of his skin. He was startlingly handsome, with prominent cheekbones and a wide jaw that was speckled with dark stubble, and even from a distance, she was drawn into the gorgeous amber hue of his irises.

 

He took a few confident steps forward into the cell, his feet landing with a prominent thud against the concrete floor. Though his raven black hair was neatly trimmed on the sides, there was somewhat of a messy mop on top, and he tossed a few longer tresses out of his face with a jerk of his neck. “So...” he said, crossing his arms. “You’re Eden?”

 

It came out as more of a statement than a question, but she nodded wordlessly. The palm against her collar began to fist, tugging nervously at the cloth.

 

“Guess you’re comin’ with me.”

 

She was at a total loss. All she could do was continue her slack-jawed stare. Her hips wiggled a little against the mattress as she considered standing up. But a portly guard lingering behind him in the doorway made her hesitate.

 

“C’mon, get up then,” he said, beckoning her towards him with an impatient sweep of his arm.

 

“I… I-” Eden could only manage a hoarse whisper despite her best efforts to speak. “Who… what’s going on?”

 

“I’m here to bust you out,” he said with a smirk.

 

“W-why?” she stammered breathlessly.

 

“’Cause my uh, ‘employer,’” he raised his hands next to his face, curling his fingers in air quotes, “wants you to come work for him.”

 

Her breath caught, and she blinked several times in disbelief.

 

“W-what? _Me_?”

 

The man glanced to either side sarcastically. “I don’t see anyone else around here.”

 

The questions came to her faster than she could process them. Her lips twitched as if to speak, but she couldn’t figure out what to say for the life of her.

 

“C’mon princess. We ain’t got all night.”

 

Cautiously, Eden swung her legs over the side of the bed and began to stand up. The man looked pleased with her progress, then frowned a little as he watched her freeze up again, clasping her hands together in front of her stomach.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked timidly.

 

“Look, I’m sure you got a lotta questions, but I don’t exactly have _permission_ to be here right now.” He tilted his head slightly back towards the guard, whose chubby face was drooping with mild frustration. “You can stay here if you want.” He slipped his hands casually into the pockets of his jacket and rocked back on his heels. “Buuut… they’re probably gonna kill you. And they’re not gonna be quick about it, either. They like to use the Iron Maiden on murderesses.”

 

All of the blood drained from her head as she let the thought of it sink in. Being shoved into a coffin, rusty spikes scraping against her back, the front of it slowly closing in on her, the dried blood of former victims mingling with her own as her flesh was pierced in dozens of places all at once…

 

“So you comin’ or not?”

 

Without waiting another second, she turned around and slipped on her shoes. Surprising herself with her own decisiveness, she walked toward him, smoothing out the front of her dress and straightening her veil.

 

“Alright,” she exhaled. “Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hi! I’m Justine! What’s your name?”

 

The young woman in the carriage next to her was ready to greet her as soon as Eden’s rear hit the cushion. The man who had broken her out of jail sealed her inside the cab and ducked back into the jailhouse, presumably to bribe the guard, and the two girls sat unmoving on the damp city street.

 

“Eden,” she said, with some reticence. She noticed Justine was dressed in a similar fashion, a simple black tea-length dress and veil.

 

“It’s nice to meet you!” she said enthusiastically. “I didn’t know we were picking up someone else.”

 

Eden was equally surprised. She wasn’t expecting to be joined by another prisoner. At least, she assumed it was another prisoner. But she looked a little bit too happy, considering the circumstances.

 

She had large, black eyes and a clear olive complexion. The smoothed hair along her forehead was a gloriously shiny black. She had a somewhat flat, tiny nose, and a cute little pink mouth that was puckered into the perfect pout. _Very pretty_ , Eden mused. Almost doll-like.

 

“Why were you in jail?” the girl asked, blunt yet sweet.

 

Eden eyed Justine with trepidation. She wasn’t about to go around telling strangers about her murder allegations, regardless of whether or not she was guilty.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, noticing Eden’s guarded posture. “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just curious. I was locked up, too.”

 

“Were you in jail?” she asked cautiously.

 

“Naw, I was at the asylum. Sisters of Mercy. Have you heard of it?” Before she could respond, the girl barreled on. “Anyway, I was there cause…” she paused, flushing a little with a coquettish smack of her lips. “I got caught fucking the Father.”

 

Justine raised her hand to her mouth, attempting to cover up her giggles. Eden wasn’t keen to comment, and merely gave her a questioning stare.

 

“So they said I had ‘Nymphomania’ and put me in the nut-house. I was only there for a couple of days, though.”

 

Eden offered a nod, doing her best to look understanding. She didn’t speak though, and turned her head to glance out of the curtained carriage window. _When is that man coming back?_

 

“So?” Justine nudged Eden’s ribs sharply with her elbow, drawing back her attention.

 

“What?” she mumbled hazily.

 

“So… I told you, now you tell me!”

 

“I...” Eden focused on her feet and clutched the plush fabric of her seat. As much as she didn’t want to engage in conversation with this girl at all, she reasoned it was unfair of her to close herself off when she was being so honest.

 

 _Not like things could get any worse_.

 

“It’s okay, I won’t tell a soul!” She bounced a little in her seat and wiggled her shoulders from side to side, like it was all a childish game of truth or dare.

 

“I was...” she began, still looking down. “I was accused of killing my husband.”

 

Justine immediately sucked in a loud, ostentatious gasp, dramatically placing her hands against her cheeks.

 

“I didn’t do it,” Eden said quickly.

 

“Oh my goodness! You’re so lucky you got out!” She placed a fervent hand upon her shoulder. “You know what they do to murderers, right? The Iron Maiden! But they save that for they end. I heard they drag it out for days. You get the full treatment. First the whips, then the rack. Then they hang you upside-down until you pass out, then wake you up and do it all over again. Oh, and have you heard about ‘the Pear?’ It’s this metal thing they shove up your pussy, then they crank it open until-”

 

“I know.” Eden raised a hand to silence her before she could continue. She didn’t want to dwell on the things that would have happened had she been left to her fate. The thought of it made the bile churn in her stomach.

 

She was almost relieved when the carriage door opened and the man who had been her rescuer crawled inside. He plopped down on the seat across from them, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as the carriage jolted into motion.

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies. You doin’ alright?”

 

“Yes sir!” Justine answered with a flirtatious smile. “Eden and I are good friends now.” She reached to the side and snatched up Eden’s hand in hers, gripping it tightly.

 

“Great,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back into his seat and spreading his legs.

 

“Are we picking up anybody else?” she asked excitedly.

 

“That’s it for today.” He grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and opened it. Before he took one for himself, he held the pack out to the two girls, almost as an afterthought.

 

Eden gently plucked one out, while Justine politely declined with a shake of her head.

 

Justine waited for the man to light their smokes before she spoke again. “Aren’t you going to tell us your name?”

 

“Oh yeah.” He ran his hand casually through the thick hair on the top of his head. “You can call me Zel.”

 

“Zel?” Justine’s eyes widened with intense interest. “That’s so exotic! Are you from the Holy Land?”

 

“Ha!” Zel chuckled deeply before taking a hit of smoke. “Sort of, yeah, but I’ve lived in Nicaea for a while now.”

 

“Have you seen any of the Holy sites?” she went on, raptly leaning in. “Mount Zion? Nazareth? The Dead Sea?”

 

“Some of them.” He ashed his smoke listlessly on the floor of the carriage. Eden had been looking around for an ashtray, but reluctantly followed his lead and did the same.

 

“Wow...” Justine whispered reverently.

 

Eden was unimpressed. Despite being rescued from prison, she didn’t trust the strange man in front of her. As the carriage wound through the streets of Sinai, she did her best to make mental notes about the route. Unfortunately, she didn’t know the city well enough to make a guess as to their destination.

 

“Where are we going?” she chimed in, interrupting the inane conversation.

 

Zel eyed her with visible indifference. “You’ll find out,” he said flatly.

 

“Isn’t this exciting?” Justine turned to Eden with a thrilled, toothy grin, tightening her grip on her hand.

 

She only acknowledged Justine’s comment briefly before casting a disdainful eye back at Zel. “Why can’t you tell us now?”

 

“Calm your tits, princess.”

 

Eden scowled at him. She didn’t appreciate being patronized.

 

“Now don’t look at me like that,” he said with an easy smile. “You should be more grateful. I got you out of jail, you know.”

 

She relented with a sigh. She realized she wasn’t in any position to be making demands. But the mystery surrounding this endeavor was unnerving. “Can you at least tell me who your ‘employer’ is? The person I’ll be working for?”

 

“I could,” he grinned. “But I’m not gonna.” He took one last drag of his cigarette before dropping it in front of him, then squished it beneath his boot. Eden noticed the abundance of burn marks on the carriage floor and felt less guilty when she had to do the same.

 

“Just relax and enjoy the ride.” Zel raised his arms and slid his hands behind his head, settling further back into his seat. “I think you’re gonna like the end result.”

 

Eden dropped the subject. Her posture sank in resignation, while Justine kept on smiling. For several minutes she prattled on, asking him frivolous questions and generally making a fool out of herself. There wasn’t any point in pressing the issue, Eden surmised, and waited with as much patience as she could summon for the rest of the ride, stealing intermittent peeks out of the window to satisfy her curiosity.

 

After a length of time she found downright excruciating, the steady trot of the horse’s hooves slowed and came to a halt. The carriage lurched forward slightly before settling. Zel gave a wide stretch of his arms and a yawn before opening the door. A rush of cool, early morning air billowed into the cab. “We’ve arrived,” he said proudly. His boots made a damp smack as they came in contact with the wet pavement, and he stood next to the open door, politely offering his hand to the two women.

 

Justine was predictably keen to take his hand and step out. Eden followed her hesitantly, opting for grabbing onto the door frame rather than accepting his assistance.

 

The two took in the sight before them. Justine clasped her hands in front of her mouth with an excited squeal, while Eden silently studied the building. It was simply called “The Inn,” the title perched over the arched entryway and glowing bright red. There was a healthy gap in between the two words, indicative of a name or descriptor that had been lost long ago. She had seen the towering structure on her train ride into the city, though from a great distance. Now that she was up close, she could fully appreciate its intimidating height.

 

“Oh my!” Justine muttered, gaping at the building in awe. “This is that hotel where only important people get to stay, isn’t it?” She rotated at the waist from one side to the other, searching for confirmation from Zel.

 

He closed the carriage door and dismissed the driver with a wave, and the horse whinnied in time with the strike of a whip before trotting away. “Clergy, military, sometimes doctors, scientists,” he said as he sauntered in front of them. “Other honored guests of his Holiness.”

 

Zel began making his way towards the entrance, and the two girls scampered along behind him. “Does his Holiness ever come here?” Justine jogged a little to catch up to him, and to make sure he heard her.

 

Eden crinkled her nose dubiously, responding before Zel could say anything. “Why would the Pope stay at a hotel when he’s got a palace right in the middle of the city?” she asked sourly.

 

“He does come here from time to time,” he said, looking back over his shoulder to Justine. “We have other amenities for our guests that you can’t find anywhere else in the Kingdom,” he added, giving Eden a cursory glance before turning back around.

 

“Oooh! I might actually get to see him in person!”

 

The trio came to a halt just in front of the double doors, where a crisply dressed bellhop awaited them. “You just might,” Zel said with a wink.

 

As they entered the lobby, even Eden had to admit it was impressive. Marble floors, polished to such a degree that you could barely see it through the reflections of the lights. A fountain with stone-cut cherubim sat right in the middle of the room, a central jet spouting water up towards a vaulted ceiling. Golden buttresses sprang from the tops of marble columns, glimmering from the ambient glow of an ornate and enormous chandelier.

 

“Welcome to the Inn, Ladies.” Zel pivoted around to face them, holding his arms proudly out to the side.

 

Justine looked as if she might burst from the sensory overload as they began making their way along a velvety red strip of carpet towards the front desk. “It’s so beautiful...” she murmured. Eden thought there may have even been a tear in her eye when she said it.

 

“Well, well, look who it is!” The man at the check-in counter bent over and leaned his forearms on the surface, staring at Zel with an impish smile as he approached.

 

The two women stopped a respectful distance away as Zel stepped up and laid his palms against the counter. “The one and only,” he said with a cocky smile.

 

“What are you doing that’s got you up so late?” He tilted his head to look behind Zel, acknowledging the presence of his companions with a grin. “Business or… pleasure?” He said suggestively, followed by a high-pitched giggle.

 

“Naw, it’s strictly business, unfortunately. Got a couple of new employees.” He stepped to one side, gesturing for them to come forward. “This is Justine, and this is Eden.”

 

“Nice to meet you, sir!” Justine said with a bright but bashful smile.

 

The man stood up straight and bobbed his head flamboyantly from side to side, somehow managing not to let a single strand of his swooping bleach blonde bangs shift out of place.. “Ooh, aren’t you a little cutie pie?” he chirped. She blushed and looked away, raising her fingers to her lips to cover up her girlish laughter. “Simply uh-DORE-a-ble!”

 

“Thank you, sir,” she said demurely, her smile growing broader from his flattery.

 

“Oh honey we have some clients who are gonna _love_ you.” He lowered his voice, making an aside to Zel. “George, you know that little Deacon from Tulsa, he’s got a real bad case of the yellow fever...”

 

“Bobby,” Zel groaned lowly, a corner of his mouth raising in gentle disapproval.

 

“And what do we have here?”

 

Feeling his probing eyes upon her, Eden snapped her head up to look at him, holding her hands together awkwardly in front of her.

 

“A real live ginger...” he remarked knowingly.

 

A fearful wave of self-consciousness seized her as her hands darted up to her forehead. She bounced her fingertips along her hairline, checking the placement of her veil.

 

Bobby gave her a teasing snicker. “I can tell by your eyebrows, sweetie,” he chided. She slowly lowered her hands.

 

He pursed his full, pink lips. Eden noticed the lower one was accented with two silver hoops spaced evenly apart. “I bet you got a nice, thick, red bush-”

 

“That’s enough, Bobby,” Zel interjected. “Just get them a couple of rooms please.”

 

Zel’s eyes wandered aimlessly around as Bobby wrote a few things down on a blank, leather-bound tome on the desk. Growing bored with the time it was taking the clerk to scribble down his notes, he glanced over to the staircase. When he smiled and pushed himself away from the counter, the two girls followed his line of sight.

 

“I was wondering if you were gonna show up,” he called up to her.

 

A woman glided gracefully down the steps. She delicately clutched her floral kimono robe at the knee, raising the hem enough to allow her slippered feet to carry her unobstructed.

 

“Somebody has to give our new residents a proper welcome.” Her voice was sensuous and rich, and draped down over them like a satin sheet. She was all breasts and hips as she sashayed towards them, full-figured and well-proportioned. The belt of her robe was cinched tightly around the inner curve of her waist, accentuating her hourglass shape.

 

“You’re not exactly the best at making a good first impression,” she added with a touch of authority.

 

“Who, me?” he chided. “I’m like, the nicest guy here.”

 

“That’s not saying much, is it?” Her thick eyebrows raised critically at him before she slid behind the desk next to Bobby, redirecting her attention to some papers on the counter.

 

Eden couldn’t stop staring. With her plush red lips and come hither brown eyes, it was difficult not to. The royal purple hue of her robe complemented the rich umber of her skin in a way that made her look almost luminous. While she was wrapped up in reading something, her mouth widened into a yawn. She raised the back of her hand to cover it, and a couple gold bangles slid down her forearm with a clink.

 

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Zel asked, settling his upper body back against the counter.

 

“Please,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “I’m practically nocturnal at this point.” She and Bobby spoke lowly to each other for a moment, the rest of them waiting patiently. Much to Eden’s relief, the overzealous clerk had adopted a more professional attitude in the woman’s presence.

 

“It looks like there aren’t any single rooms left on the women’s floor...” She paused and glanced up, shifting her eyes between the two girls. “Would you mind sharing a room?”

 

Eden braced herself for the inevitable eruption from Justine.

 

“Of course not!” She grabbed Eden’s hand so forcefully she thought she might lose circulation. “We’d love it, wouldn’t we?”

 

Eden nodded glumly at what was clearly a rhetorical question. Justine hadn’t even bothered to wait for an answer, too wrapped up in her elation to think of anything else.

 

“We’ll put them here,” the woman muttered to Bobby, pointing to a spot on a laminated sheet of paper. The clerk handed her a pair of keys and drew a streak over the page with a strong smelling black marker.

 

“May I be dismissed, madame?” Zel said wryly, drumming his fingers on the counter.

 

“I’ll take it from here,” she said firmly. “Off with you now.”

 

“Well ladies, it was a pleasure.” He stepped in front of the girls, palms outstretched and bending at the waist in a dramatic bow.

 

“Aww!” Justine whined with an exaggerated frown. “Will we get to see you again?”

 

“Oh I’ll be around,” he said with a wink. “Probably see you tomorrow, actually.”

 

“Why? What’s happening tomorrow?” Eden butted in urgently.

 

“You really need to cool it with the questions, princess.” Zel put his hands on his hips and squinted at her, briefly examining her face. “You really shouldn’t worry about that shit right now. It looks like you’re gonna drop dead if you don’t get some sleep.”

 

The woman stepped around to the front of the counter, a pair of keys looped over her index finger. “If you’ll please follow me, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

 

With that, she headed briskly back towards the staircase. Justine still had Eden’s hand in a death grip, and the redhead grunted with the strain of having to drag her along as she ran to catch up.

 

“Bye, Zel!” Justine managed to wave at him before being whipped around by Eden’s forceful tug.

 

The woman paused on the staircase, looking back over her shoulder to ensure that they were following. “Come along.” She spoke sternly, but softened the edges with a warm smile. “I’ll go over a few things on the way to your room.” She resumed her path up the stairs, her thick black braid swaying like a pendulum over her back as she went.

 

Eden kept her ears at attention, being more than eager to get some kind of information. Her eyes were restless, though, still attempting to take in the splendor of her surroundings. As they finished climbing the grand staircase and turned down a hallway, the marble and stone were replaced by soft carpet, billowing drapes, and cherry wood trim. The walls were decorated in crimson paper with black fleur de lis, the pattern interrupted every now and again by a scenic painting.

 

“My name is Ashia, by the way.” She rotated her head enough to regard the two with another quick smile. “I’m the hospitality director here at the Inn. So if you have any questions or concerns regarding your accommodations, don’t hesitate to see me.”

 

Rounding another corner they happened upon yet another staircase, though one much more standard in scale.

 

“Elevators are reserved for our guests. We ask that employees take the stairs when they can, or use the service elevator, located at the far western end of each hall.”

 

After ascending the staircase, they immediately began going up another. Justine had given up holding hands and was now putting her effort into pulling herself along the railing. “How far up do we have to go? This place is like a thousand stories tall!”

 

“You’ll be staying on the sixth floor. That’s where most of the other young women reside.”

 

“I hope I won’t have to walk all the way to the top!” she huffed.

 

Even though her back was to them, a good-natured smile was audible in Ashia’s tone. “Most of what you need will be on the first six floors, and the first few levels of the basement.”

 

“I sure hope so!”

 

Two flights of steps later, Ashia let the lifted skirt of her robe fall out of her hand. “This is the sixth floor.” The three began traveling down a long hallway, passing countless white doors labeled with brass numbers. A couple of right turns later, the woman came to a halt, sliding the keys off of her finger. “Here we are. 633.”

 

She inserted the key into the latch and pushed it open. As soon as she entered she stepped cordially to the side and held it for them as they entered.

 

Eden hung back a little and let Justine venture in first. “Oh wow!” she said breathlessly, still exhausted from trekking up the stairs. “This is so awesome. I’ve never stayed in a hotel before...”

 

There wasn’t much in the way of furniture. A dresser, a desk, an end table between…

 

 _Thank the Lord,_ Eden said to herself. _Two beds_. At least she wouldn’t have to sleep next to her.

 

Once they had fully stepped inside, Ashia let the door swing shut, locking itself on the latch. “The phone is for internal calls only.” She walked over to the side of one of the double beds as the girls looked at the phone on the end table. “There’s a directory in the drawer there. Room service, housekeeping, security...” she went on, turning down the thick ivory comforter and fluffing up the pillows.

 

“There’s a menu there, too,” she continued, sauntering over to the other bed and repeating the same treatment she had given the other. “The kitchen is open twenty-four hours, so feel free to order something. You girls must be hungry.”

 

Justine was snooping around the room, flipping switches and opening drawers, while Eden stood still and took it in. It was definitely the most stately accommodations she had ever had the privilege to occupy. It almost felt like she was taking advantage of someone’s hospitality. _This, ‘employer,’ whoever that might be…_

 

Justine had now made her way toward the phone, and bent over it with a perplexed eye. “How do you use this?” she asked. “The only time I ever saw anyone use one was my mom, when my grandma was sick.”

 

With a soft smile, Ashia went over to her and began instructing her on the basics of the machine. But Eden found herself drawn towards the curtained window, seemingly unaware of anything else that was going on around her. Slowly she approached it, then took hold of the plastic wand hanging at the center, and swished it aside.

 

Before her lay the city of Sinai, half-lit and glistening with a fresh coat of rain, reflecting against the window and re-painting itself with its own light. In the distance the spires of the Vatican thrust skyward, towering above the cityscape and dominating the structures around it. Just before it, a two hundred foot tall cross, gleaming white and surrounded by bright lights, glowed like a lighthouse in the sea of buildings that surrounded it.

 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

 

Ashia stepped carefully behind her until she was at her back. Eden glanced over her shoulder, enough to see the woman’s hands held together calmly in front of her stomach.

 

Instinctively Eden crossed herself, then clasped her hands together and touched them to her lips before letting them fall in front of her. “I never thought I’d ever be able to see the Holy City like this.”

 

One corner of Ashia’s mouth turned up, and she let out a small chuckle. “And it only took you a murder conviction to be able to see it this way.”

 

Eden turned to her with a pensive scowl, but Ashia continued before she could say anything.

 

“Yes, I know what you’ve done.”

 

The two met eyes, and Eden’s breath hitched. “Wait, how did you...”

 

“It’s alright. We’ve all been accused of something. Your roommate here,” she said, gesturing towards Justine, “has been diagnosed with ‘Nymphomania.’ I myself have been accused of similar crimes. You’ll find that all of the men and women here have committed some kind of slight against the Kingdom. Myself included.”

 

Her primary instinct was to proclaim her innocence. Eden opened her mouth as if to speak, but couldn’t summon the words.

 

“It doesn’t matter whether or not it’s true,” Ashia said flatly, before turning back to gaze out of the window. “What matters is that you’ve been rescued from your sentence, and you are no longer at the mercy of Nicaea. Your fate is now in your own hands.”

 

In spite of her words, Eden’s eyes pricked with fresh tears. She scarcely understood her predicament now, let alone the one she was in just a few short hours ago. She swallowed against her sobs and focused on the cross, a silent ‘Our Father’ playing in her head.

 

A couple seconds of silence passed between them, Ashia waiting respectfully until she spoke again. “Would you like me to get you something? Something to eat? A drink, perhaps?”

 

After nearly two days of nothing, a little food sounded more than welcome. She sucked her stomach into her ribs, suppressing a loud growl that threatened to rip its way out of her. “I guess I am a little hungry,” she murmured.

 

“Very well,” she answered affably. “Would you like a whiskey or a scotch to settle your nerves? I’m sure it’s been a trying day.”

 

Eden recalled with some churlishness the substance that had, by way of her husband, poisoned the last two and a half years of her life. But she’d be lying if she said she didn’t crave its calming effects. Sometimes the only thing that soothed her to sleep was a bite of her own husband’s venom, and right now, the idea was more than alluring.

 

She nodded silently in response, averting her eyes to whatever judgment the woman might have veiled in hers.

 

“I’ll send something up.” Ashia reached out and cupped her hand around the girl’s shoulder, tugging gently to draw her attention. “I know that the past few days have been very confusing for you. Please, try to get some rest. You can sleep as long as you like. When you wake up, we’ll arrange a meeting with your new employer, and I promise, many of your questions will be answered.”

 

After a solid pat on Eden’s shoulder, Ashia let go and turned away. She made a little small talk with Justine, politely excused herself, and then slipped out of the door, leaving the two of them alone while they nervously acclimated themselves.

 

“Oh, my!” Justine exclaimed, flopping back down on one of the beds. “What a day!”

 

“Yes...” Eden responded. She slid the curtain back over the window fully, pausing to ensure that every crack was fully obstructed, before turning around with a sigh. “It’s been a really long day.”

 

The girl lay on the bed only briefly before snatching one of the pillows and rolling to her knees. “So!” she began with renewed enthusiasm, “What’dya think, huh?”

 

Eden declined to answer, and instead began gliding wordlessly over to the small alcove where the restroom sat. Her fingertips glossed the wall until they came in contact with a light switch, and she flicked it on, and a blinding glow bathed a marbled vanity stuck conspicuously to the wall.

 

“I hope we get to stay here,” Justine went on, undeterred by Eden’s silence. “This is the fanciest place I’ve ever seen! That Ashia lady seems really nice, too.”

 

“Mhmm.” Eden fixed her eyes on the mirror in front of her, examining her peaked face. Dark bags marred the skin under her reddened eyes. There was a greasy sheen on her forehead, which was was still stuck furrowed over her full, straight eyebrows. Glancing to her left and right, she reached up to her veil, cautiously removing the pins that were keeping it in place.

 

“And that Zel guy! He was really handsome, dontchya think?”

 

She grabbed the veil at the front and peeled it away from her hair, revealing a tightly wound, albeit frizzy red bun underneath. Smoothing the top once or twice, she undid it from its bindings, letting her wavy tresses fall unobstructed over her back. She frowned a little, recalling with some cynicism the man who had rescued her from prison. “I guess so,” she mumbled.

 

“I think he likes you!” Justine giggled.

 

She did her best to engage as she turned on the faucet and readied to wash her face. But all she could think about, now that the adrenaline of the past few days was finally subsiding, was crawling into bed. She hoped Ashia had been sincere about allowing her to sleep for as long as she wanted. With the fear of torture and death staved for the moment, she could sleep peacefully at last. No matter what her chatty roommate had to say about it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Snooze… where is the damn snooze button?_

 

The electronic bleating of the phone woke Eden up out of a dead sleep, though not as much as she would have anticipated. She groped for the receiver, then oscillated it between both ears a couple of times awkwardly.

 

_“Hey, princess!”_

 

She tried not to groan as she realized who was on the other end. “Zel?”

 

_“_ _Time to wake up.”_

 

She squinted through the sleep in her eyes at the digital clock next to her. _4:30 p.m._ It was definitely late when she went to bed last night. Or early, depending on the point of view. But had she really slept until four thirty in the evening?

 

“I – I’m sorry I slept so long...”

 

_“Don’t worry about it. Just be ready in fifteen minutes. I’ll come by to get you.”_

 

There was a clicking sound, then silence on the other end.

 

“Zel?”

 

Not getting a reply, she placed the receiver clumsily back down and pushed herself away from her pillow. The pillowcase was damp with drool, and a brief comb of her fingers through her hair indicated a lopsided mess on the back of her head.

 

Eden only needed to regard the stillness in the hotel room to notice that her roommate was missing. She had likely woken up before her, and probably had already gone to meet their mysterious employer. She tried not to curse out loud as she processed her wake-up time along with Zel’s hasty message. _Gotta get ready…_

 

After spending just enough time to put her clothes back on and get her veil somewhat in place, she started at the sound of Zel’s knuckles on the door.

 

 _“_ _Hey. You decent?”_ he asked through the barrier.

 

“Y-yes. Come in.”

 

_“_ _The door’s locked. You gotta open it for me.”_

 

Eden tucked the remaining loose strands of hair beneath her veil. Then, with one last look in the mirror, she turned the knob and pulled the door in just enough to expose one half of her body.

 

He was wearing an outfit similar to the one he had worn last night, sans the jacket. Tossing his bangs aside with a shake of his head, he craned forward to capture her eyes. “You gonna let me in or what?”

 

There was a brief battle between her modesty and her fear, but fear quickly won the fight. Taking a long step back, Eden dragged the door open, giving him ample room to step inside.

 

Zel entered until he was just inside the room. He kept his hands loosely at his hips and stood in the entryway, eyeing her under an arched brow. She was reluctant to let go of the door entirely as it would lock them both inside. Alone…

 

“Ready to meet the boss?” he asked matter-of-factly.

 

She nodded her head a couple of times before looking down at the floor, twisting the ball of her foot into the carpet.

 

“C’mon then. Let’s go.”

 

She took care to close the door behind her as she stepped into the hallway after him. Patting the pocket of her dress to check for her key, she scampered after him as he began walking briskly towards the end of the hall.

 

Once they got to the service elevator, Zel pressed the call button a few times impatiently with his index finger. “You sleep well?” he asked tersely, looking over his shoulder at her.

 

“Yes sir,” she responded without looking.

 

“Ha!” He expelled all the air in his lungs in a forceful burst of laughter, then slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he went back to facing the elevator. “You newbies crack me up.”

 

She wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or not, but knew better than to ask. After a moment the elevator doors opened with a ding, and the two of them stepped aboard. She immediately nestled into the back corner and held her hands behind her while Zel selected the topmost floor, labeled ‘42.’

 

“The boss’s office is at the top,” he explained as the doors closed. “You’re only allowed up there if you have permission from him. Or the Pope.” Eden clasped the railing on the wall of the cabin as it sprang to life, beginning its journey upwards. “The only two things on the top floor are the boss’s rooms and the Papal suite.”

 

Eden stared at his back as they ascended, narrowing in on the muscles of his shoulders that bulged beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. “H-his Holiness?” she stammered, simultaneously scared and starstruck at the mention of him.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, grinning back at her. “He likes the view.”

 

Before long, the elevator came to an abrupt halt. She let out the breath she was subconsciously holding and released her grip on the railing as the doors spread open.

 

“Alright princess, here we are.” He took a long step over the threshold into the hall, and Eden clambered after him.

 

These halls shared a similar look to what she had already seen, but were made more ornate by a few subtle touches. The fleur de lis were gold leaf instead of black, and the runner along the bottom of the wallpaper was a glossy mahogany. Small crystal chandeliers rather than simple light fixtures clung to the ceiling, softly illuminating their path.

 

As the two of them began making their way down the hall, Eden ventured to speak. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

 

He slowed his pace a little, allowing her to catch up with him until they were almost walking side-by-side. “What? ‘Princess?’”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Eh, it’s just a little nickname for ya. See, we don’t normally take on someone as hot as you.”

 

Noting her confusion, he continued, confidently rolling his back until he stood up as straight as he could. “By ‘hot,’ I mean your case,” he said. “Most of the people we get are from the asylum. And the ones we get from jail are usually guilty of petty crimes. Theft, vandalism, that sort of shit. But you...” He glanced over to her with a smirk. “We haven’t had a murderer in here for a while. Had to pick you up in the middle of the night and everything. Boss must’ve thought you were special or something.”

 

“I’m not guilty!” she insisted, nearly jogging to keep up with his pace.

 

“Whatever,” he said dismissively. “Boss doesn’t seem to care.”

 

Before she could protest any further, they came to a stop in front of an oak door. Zel grabbed the knob and with a solid twist pushed it open. Holding it ajar with his palm, he looked back to Eden with a wink. “Go on in.”

 

Just as she entered the wide vestibule, she turned with a jerk as the door clicked shut behind her. A part of her wanted to reach for the knob and bolt back out. At least ask Zel a few more questions. But she reluctantly made her way deeper inside, absorbing the abundant yet tasteful furnishings that surrounded her.

 

Antique overstuffed chairs, pristine and plush rugs, a large, weathered globe, shelves of books…

 

“Come in, Eden.”

 

She started again at the sound of his voice. An unfettered archway in front of her separated the lounge from his office. He sat at his desk some distance away, back-lit by the setting sunlight eking through the windows.

 

His voice was deep, commanding, yet gentle, entreating her to come nearer. Brushing away whatever lint might be clinging to her dress, she crept into the office, her breath baited with anticipation.

 

After a few more scribbles of the pen on the page in front of him, he laid the instrument down over the paper. He raised his eyes to hers, laced his fingers together, rested his bearded chin on his hands, examining her with a stony and emotionless face. It was…

 

“F-father Levi?”

 

She had to force the words out of her throat. It was indeed the same man who had interrogated her just yesterday. Unless she was seeing things. Considering her tumultuous experience over the last few days, it was entirely possible. Maybe it was just a coincidence. It had to be.

 

But the corners of his lips twitched upwards knowingly before flattening back out. “Yes,” was all he said.

 

She willed the blood to return to her head as her stomach dropped to her knees. A hot shiver coursed along her spine as she probed him with disquieted eyes. Clutching the back of a nearby chair for support, she drew in a shaky breath. “You were...” she began, willing her vocal chords to life. “What are you...”

 

He turned the piece of paper he was writing on over on the desk and stood up, keeping his fingertips pressed upon the surface. “Please,” he said, gesturing towards her with an open palm. “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

It took Eden a hard moment to adjust to his appearance. He wasn’t wearing the priestly vestments he had donned the day before. Instead, he was dressed in a gray pinstriped suit that hugged his muscular form, and a neatly knotted crimson tie was looped around his starched white collar. Still thunderstruck by his presence alone, she quietly obeyed his request and sat courteously in the armchair in front of his desk.

 

The man paced around the side of his desk to the front, keeping one hand in contact with the surface as he did. He didn’t look away from her. In fact, Eden felt his stare to be uncomfotably penetrating, like he knew what she looked like without her veil.

 

Despite the multitude of questions that had been bombarding her mind for days now, she could only gape at him.

 

“As you already know, my name is Levi,” he said, pressing a palm to his chest as he leaned his backside against the edge of the desk. “And, as you may have guessed, I am not a priest.”

 

As was the habit when she was nervous, she began to wring her hands, and the heel of her foot unconsciously started to tap against the carpet.

 

Levi seemed to notice her fidgeting, and acknowledged her reticence with a soft bob of his head. “You needn’t be afraid.”

 

Though his words were comforting, his tone was still prickly enough to make a lump begin forming in her throat. It was easy to tell someone not to be afraid in his position.

 

“If you’re not a priest, then… then who are you?” she asked, fighting against the instinct to simply suppress her curiosity. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she couldn’t avoid visualizing an angry nun flogging her for asking such a bold question.

 

“I’m the owner of this establishment,” he said with a curt sweep of his hand.

 

He waited a beat for her to come to terms with reality. No doubt she was reeling from the revelation of his true identity. She probably wanted to ask a question. Most of the new recruits did. It was better to wait for them to ask and go from there. At least that way, he could somewhat ascertain their motives.

 

But she didn’t say anything. Silence was another common reaction, as it turned out. Going off previous experience, he tried to start explaining things to her, if nothing else than to take away the shock.

 

“ _The Inn_ is a place that offers a variety of services to members of the clergy not available anywhere else in Nicaea. I provide them with luxuries, goods, and experiences they are otherwise unable to obtain. Such a venture does require employees, however. Due to the… unorthodox nature of this place, I seek new employees in the prisons and asylums of Sinai.”

 

Eden closed her hands around the armrest and sat up as straight as she could in her seat. In addition to his intimidating presence, Levi was extremely tall, adding to the daunting visage that was overwhelming her.

 

“So… you want me to work for you?” she asked, squeaking a little on the last few words.

 

“Yes.” Levi settled himself so that he was sitting on the edge of his desk. “If you wish to stay here, you are required to choose a vocation.”

 

It definitely wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Eden put together what she had gleaned from her brief interactions into something resembling a coherent picture. Bobby’s comments, Ashia’s appearance, Justine’s offenses to the Kingdom, they all made a disturbing amount of sense.

 

“Is this a… brothel?”

 

Levi gave a short, affirmative hum. “That is our primary function, yes.”

 

Eden tightened her grip on the armrests in an attempt to settle her nerves. She had gone with Zel in the first place because he offered her something preferable to torture and death. At least, something she could bear with more dignity than either of those options. But she hadn’t considered this. If she was going to be forced into unwilling employment, she wasn’t sure if this was worth the punishment she would have received otherwise.

 

“So… I am to be a… a prostitute?” she gulped.

 

“Not necessarily.”

 

Eden let out her breath in cautious relief, her fingers relaxing somewhat in their grip. “What _will_ I be doing then?”

 

“That’s entirely up to you.” Levi stood up, clasping his hands behind his back with a formal air. “You can choose another line of work if you wish. But I must admit, being a courtesan is by far the most lucrative position here.”

 

“What’s a courtesan?” she asked innocently.

 

“A courtesan is someone who exchanges their ‘companionship’ for money. It’s the reason that most of the clergy stay here when they visit the Holy City. And it’s the reason the Pope frequents this establishment, as well.”

 

Eden nodded her understanding, but kept her face as expressionless as it would allow her. _Why would his Holiness need something like that?_ She wondered. _Why would any member of the clergy? Wouldn’t engaging in such an act be a violation of their vows? Would the women who serviced them be allowed to receive confession?_

 

“Members of the cloth are required to take vows of celibacy, yes,” he began, as if reading her mind. “But you will find that these vows are not easy to maintain. The Inn offers services that allow these men to satisfy their basal urges so that they may continue to perform their necessary duties.”

 

Eden knew very well what ‘services’ he was referring to. She was naive, but not stupid. “So I’m supposed to have sex with priests for money?” she asked, though more as a statement.

 

“Again, you are not being forced to choose that career path.” He crossed his arms in front of his broad chest, which puffed up even bigger as he took a deep breath. “There are many other jobs available.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Well… do you have a degree?”

 

“A… a what?”

 

“Did you attend a university upon completing secondary school?”

 

She cocked her head at him, her eyes becoming wide and fearful. Women weren’t allowed to attend universities, at least under normal circumstances. Certainly not an orphan like herself. In fact, she had gotten married just as soon as she finished high school. Even if they had bothered to test her, she likely wouldn’t have gotten approval based on her background alone.

 

“No sir,” she answered timidly.

 

Anticipating her answer, he went with hardly a breath. “Any experience in engineering?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Nursing?”

 

Another no.

 

“Are you a good cook?”

 

Eden was beginning to wonder if he was mocking her at this point. Of course she hadn’t attended college. Of course she didn’t have any experience outside the home. He had seen her file. He knew about her history, and he knew that she was barely twenty years old; it’s not exactly like she had a lot of time to gather experience. And it wasn’t like she was anticipating being put in a situation where she had to earn her own living.

 

“I guess so,” she answered, inwardly considering her cooking ability. “I mean, I cooked for my husband every day. I don’t know if it was any good, though.”

 

Levi sighed and rolled his shoulders. “Do you have any special skills or talents that we can make use of?”

 

Eden racked her brain for a satisfactory answer. She surmised that without one, she would only support the idea that her only usefulness would be in selling her body. It wasn’t a thought she relished. Never mind the moral ramifications – after almost three years of enduring the unwanted sexual advances of her husband, she wasn’t sure if she could handle anymore, even if she was getting paid to do it.

 

When she failed to speak up, Levi frowned a little. He noticed the dreadful look on her face, though, and spoke quickly to try and ease her fears. “I won’t force you to do something with which you are uncomfortable.”

 

“It’s not like I’m good at anything else,” she mumbled to the floor.

 

He briefly stroked his beard with one hand before pushing himself away from the desk. “Well,” he said, sauntering back behind it, “We could always use more maids.”

 

Eden visibly perked up at the suggestion. _A maid? That’s something I can definitely do._

 

He picked up the pen he was using when she first walked in and slid it into a mesh cup along with several others. “I won’t lie to you,” he said with a heavy lilt of warning, “It isn’t quite as innocuous as it sounds.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’ll be required to clean guest rooms and other facilities at the direction of your supervisor. However, you’ll find that the messes you encounter are a bit more… _demanding_ than you are accustomed to. After all, this isn’t your run-of-the-mill hotel.”

 

She focused on his eyes with a serious pout, waiting on him to expound.

 

“Of course you’ll have to perform standard tasks.” Levi grunted as he plopped down in his chair, resuming the position of folded hands and propped elbows as he scooted in. “Dusting, changing linens, scrubbing toilets. The majority of your daily routine will consist of such things.” He began pulling out drawers and sorting a few things, continuing to talk to her while occupying his attention elsewhere. “But there will be additional challenges. Vomit, urine, feces, blood, semen...” He paused and looked back up at her, ensuring she was heeding his warning. “...And not confined to any traditional locations, either.”

 

She badly wanted to retch at his words, but kept her gag reflex firmly in check. True, she had encountered all of the above with her late husband, but at least it was restricted to someone she had to live with. She was unsure of how she would react when confronted with various bodily expulsions belonging to a stranger. It was unappealing to say the least. Maybe more disgusting than whoring herself out to clergymen. Maybe…

 

Eden swallowed her nausea. “Will I have to do this every day?”

 

“You will receive two days off per week, which will be determined by your direct supervisor.”

 

She gave him a small but affirmative nod. “Will I get paid for doing this?” She tried not to sound greedy as she asked it, but couldn’t help but think that it came out that way.

 

“Not much, I’ll admit.” He spread his palms out and shrugged his shoulders before letting his arms fall flat on the desk. “But it’s enough to cover room and board, with a little spending money left over.”

 

She nodded again, this time more to convince herself than to communicate with Levi. “How long?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“How long will I have to work here?”

 

The root of all of this, Eden reasoned, were her legal problems. If she hadn’t been accused of killing her husband, she wouldn’t be here in the first place. Although she was convinced of her own innocence, it was highly unlikely that any court or jury would buy her story. Zel had offered her employment with Levi as an alternative to her likely torture and execution. And while just about anything sounded better than the sentence a council of Cardinals would come up with, she wasn’t keen on simply trading one life sentence for another. Those few days between her husband’s death and her arrest had given her a glorious taste of freedom. While it was unlikely that she would ever experience such a thing again, she was nevertheless committed to its acquisition, even if it was nothing more than a pipe dream.

 

“Let me be clear,” Levi said sternly. “You are not a prisoner. There is nothing keeping you here. You can leave any time you desire.”

 

The hairs on the back of Eden’s neck stood at attention, and goosebumps raced along her arms. “I can… leave?”

 

“Of course,” he said affably, as if it were obvious.

 

Her heart almost stopped in her chest. _I can leave…_ she said to herself, more reverently than a prayer. _I’m free. I can leave whenever I want…_

 

An indescribable elation took hold of her. It made her want to fall to her knees and praise God for her good fortune. It was the most wonderful thing anyone could have told her. It was the most wonderful thing she had ever heard in her entire life.

 

_I’m free. I’m free. I’m free._

 

“However,” Levi said definitively, pulling Eden out of her thoughts, “You are still wanted by the Inquisition for the crime of murder.”

 

And just like that, her reverie was crushed into dust, the remnants of her hope floating into the atmosphere. She wasn’t free. She never would be. She was doomed to live out the rest of her days as a prisoner. Nothing in her life had changed. First it was a convent. Then a marriage. Now a sleazy hotel. The bars on her cage were still there as they had always been. They had merely changed their appearance.

 

Her features sunk as she took in the certitude of his words. True, she would be paid for her labor, something she had never experienced before, and that in itself made this prospect far more lucrative than any of her other roles up until this point. Even so, she was reluctant to take any of Levi’s words at face value. He had conned her into thinking he was a priest, after all. It wasn’t a stretch to assume he was lying now.

 

“Eden?”

 

She blinked a couple of times, all too aware of the tears that were welling in her throat. “Yes?” she replied softly.

 

“Do you wish to accept my offer?”

 

She sniffled once, barely keeping her sobs at bay. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

Levi gave a disgruntled sigh. “Do you wish to accept my offer of employment?” he repeated, more loudly than was necessary.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Very well.” Levi opened the wide drawer that was just beneath the desk. After rummaging through it for a minute, he removed a small slip of green paper. Plucking a pen from the tangle of others stuffed into their holder, he began scrawling something on it, pressing the tip into the paper with visible effort. “You are to report to Catherine tomorrow morning at seven a.m.,” he said as he wrote. “Room twenty-five. That’s on the first floor.”

 

After a flourish of his pen following a signature, he leaned across the desk and handed the paper over to Eden.

 

She pinched it hesitantly in her fingers before skimming over it. The details of her work assignment were reiterated haphazardly on the slip.

 

“Thank you, sir,” she managed to say. It should have been easy to summon a little bit of gratitude in light of the circumstances, but she still found the words to be excessively laborious.

 

“Now that you are officially an employee, you have permission to access any and all common areas.” He looked her in the eye, but his vacant expression and atonal speech made it seem like he was reciting something from a script. “Commissary and laundry are on the first floor, kitchen and doctor on the second. Women’s quarters are on floors five and six, and the men are on level seven. If you have any issues with room and board, Ashia’s office is on the third floor, just past the lounge. Zel is head of security. You can find his office on the third floor as well, though I doubt you’ll ever find him there. It’s best to just call down there and have someone page him.”

 

Eden nodded, though she found some of his terminology a little confusing. “What happens when I -” she balked before she could finish her sentence. Flushing a deep shade of red, she worked up the courage to say what she had initially set out to. “When it’s my… time of the month?”

 

“The clinic provides supplies free of charge. The doctor leaves a box outside that’s accessible day or night. Just take what you need.”

 

She tried to shrug off her embarrassment and gave a satisfactory smile at his answer. “Thank you.”

 

“Do you have any other questions?” He tried to convey some semblance of patience, but Eden was sure there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

 

“Yes,” she said, shrinking into her chair. “What, um… Have you talked to Justine today?”

 

Eden surprised herself with that one. It wasn’t like she really cared what had happened to the girl. If anything, she hoped he’d tell her that she was gone, so she could have their room to herself.

 

Levi cleared his throat. “Yes,” he answered simply. “She was here earlier.”

 

“Is she an employee now, too?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What job did she get?”

 

He stared at her sharply, almost angrily. “I don’t discuss details of my conversations with other employees,” he stated. “I prefer to keep things confidential.”

 

“Of course, Father, I’m sorry,” she said quickly.

 

“Don’t call me Father,” he spat, somewhat harshly. “Levi will suffice.”

 

“I’m sorry, Levi,” she said lowly, curling up into an even smaller ball in her chair.

 

A quiet fog seeped into the room, draping itself awkwardly over them for a brief moment. After a long, torturous minute, Levi spoke up and cut through it. “Any more questions?”

 

Eden shook her head while chewing the inside of her lower lip.

 

“Then you are free to go.” Levi sat back in his chair, the dark brown leather sliding along his back with a squeak. He folded his hands in his lap while finally allowing the serious scowl in his forehead to relax. “Zel will escort you back to your room.”

 

After she got up from her seat she gave a small bow; an awkward gesture, but it was the best thing she could come up with at the time. But before she made her exit, she couldn’t help but drink in the sight of all the tomes around her. Bookshelves not only wrapped around the walls of the vestibule, but they extended into his office, filling every available nook with volume upon volume of literature. “You have a lot of books,” she remarked shyly.

 

Levi tilted his head to one side and swept his eyes perplexedly over her black-clad figure. One of the corners of his mouth curved up, and his body shook slightly with a little huff of mild interest. “Do you like to read?”

 

She shook her head up and down while she rotated in place, visually digesting the miniature library. “I do,” she answered, obviously enthralled by his collection.

 

“Well,” he said, adopting a heavy-handed air of friendliness, “There’s a library in the lounge on the third floor. You’re welcome to borrow whatever you like.”

 

“Really?” Eden stopped to look at him while doing her best to obscure her excitement.

 

“Just make sure you record it on the ledger, and promptly return any books you’ve finished.”

 

She cracked him a grateful smile – probably the most genuine smile she had ever given anyone – before quietly turning on her heel and slipping inconspicuously out of Levi’s office.

* * *

 

 

“Eden! Oh my goodness, you’re back!”

 

Justine wrapped her in a fierce embrace as soon as she entered the door, and Zel snickered at them before he shut himself out.

 

“It’s good to see you too, Justine,” she said, poising her hands awkwardly to the side before returning the hug.

 

“Oh my goodness, did you shit your pants when you saw _Father Levi_ up there?!” She grabbed Eden by the shoulders and pushed her back, boring into her with tense excitement.

 

Eden offered her a polite smile. “I definitely wasn’t expecting him,” she said genially.

 

“Me neither!” Justine gave Eden’s shoulders a quick shake for emphasis. “Can you believe he’s gonna let us _work_ here?!”

 

She pulled Eden into another hug, digging her fingers into her back with such vigor she was certain it would bruise.

 

“Yeah, I know,” Eden offered indifferently. She wanted to return at least a little of Justine’s enthusiasm, but she knew from their brief time together that it wouldn’t matter what she said or how she said it. It was entirely possible the girl wasn’t even listening.

 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” she beamed, flashing her perfectly straight teeth in an unabashed grin. “We get to be courtesans!” She took hold of Eden’s hands and bounced up and down for a few seconds.

 

“Wait a second. I’m not-”

 

“Levi says I get to fuck all the priests I want. And the _best_ part is I’m getting _paid_ to do it!”

 

“I’m happy for you, Justine,” Eden said, laying a stiff congratulatory pat on Justine’s shoulder.

 

“So who are you training with tomorrow?” she asked, clapping her hands together twice. “I’ve got Sarah Jo, who’ve you got?”

 

Eden held up a calming hand in front of her face. “Justine, I’m not going to be a courtesan.”

 

The admission was met with a loud scoff as she placed her hands indignantly on her hips. “What? Why not? You can make soooo much money!”

 

“It’s just… not something I want to do right now. I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” Even though the thought of selling herself made her toes curl with disgust, she wasn’t about to criticize Justine for making that choice. She didn’t want to come across as judgmental. It wasn’t as if she was in any position to point fingers.

 

“Oh, Eden, I hope you will!” With one more shake for good measure, Justine finally released her hold on Eden’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it, so you don’t miss out!”

 

Before Eden had the chance to protest such an unsavory idea, Justine went on.

 

“So what are you gonna do if you’re not gonna be a courtesan?”

 

“Well, I...” she began sheepishly, “I sort of… Levi said he needed maids.”

 

“Ew, you’re gonna be a maid?” Justine teased good-naturedly. “That sucks. I bet you’re gonna have to clean up a lotta nasty stuff.”

 

Eden gave a clipped shrug. “I’m sure there’s worse things,” she said, though admittedly more for her own benefit than Justine’s.

 

“What time do you have to go to work tomorrow?”

 

“Seven.”

 

“Fuck, that’s so early!” Justine chuckled. “I don’t have to start until noon.”

 

Eden tried not to roll her eyes. She hoped that her roommate’s late workday wouldn’t mean making a lot of noise into the early morning hours. Despite having slept for most of the day, she found herself overwhelmingly tired.

 

“Hey, listen!” Justine said in a loud whisper, squeezing Eden’s hand, “One of the girls, Maggie, invited me to a party in her room tonight. You wanna come with? I’m sure it’ll be fun. She says she has a bottle of vodka.”

 

Eden gave a polite shake of her head. “Sorry, I’m really tired. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

 

“Pfft, go to bed! You’ve been sleeping, like, all day!”

 

“Maybe next time,” she stated with a kind smile, returning Justine’s grip with a gentle squeeze of her own.

 

“Okay, fine!” she groaned, belying her good humor with another toothy grin. “I’ll try not to wake you up when I come in. But I’m probably gonna be pretty drunk, so I can’t make any promises!”

 

Eden suppressed a sigh. She hoped her exhaustion would be enough to counteract her noisy roommate. But based on past experience, she was skeptical. In a bizarre twist of her own thoughts, she found herself longing for the painful stab of the Iron Maiden.

 

_At least in there I’d have some peace and quiet._


	4. Chapter 4

“Bless my soul, if it isn’t the illustrious Cardinal Elizabeth!”

 

A woman in a blood red dress shut the heavy gilded door behind her, unconsciously wiping the corners of her mouth with her thumb. Deliberately ignoring the man addressing her, she gave a quick tug to the ends of her long, blonde locks, draping them neatly over her shoulders.

 

A man in a nearly identical red robe strode towards her, though his shoulder-length brown hair was unobstructed by a veil, and simply contained in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck.

 

“So you’ll swallow for his Holiness, but not for anyone else?” He came to a stop in front of her, haughtily crossing his arms over his chest with a ribald smirk.

 

“Shut up, Michael,” she sneered, pushing her way past him. “I’m not in the mood.”

 

“Bah! You’re never in the mood,” he jabbed, sidling up next to her as she made her way purposefully through the gleaming halls of the Vatican.

 

“Is there something you wanted, Michael?” she snapped, not even deigning to look in his direction. “If it’s about the weekly broadcast, you can ask Timothy. I’m sick of trying to come up with ideas for you.”

 

“Fortunately we’re set for another few weeks yet,” he replied with an audacious air. “Silus loves that whole ‘Seven Deadly Sins’ series. Practically writes itself.”

 

“Then why are you bothering me?” she said tersely.

 

“C’mon Lizzie,” he crooned, nudging her arm with his elbow. “We promised we were gonna try to be nicer to each other, didn’t we?”

 

She kept her eyes locked ahead of her, and held her hands calmly together in front of her waist. “We promised we’d _try_ ,” she reiterated icily. “But you’re not exactly setting the right tone when you start off making crude remarks like that.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he said with just a touch of playful sarcasm. “You know I’m just kidding around.”

 

Elizabeth forced out an angry breath through her nostrils, blinking slowly to re-center herself. “I don’t find it very funny,” she stated coolly. “After so many years I’ve come to expect a little more maturity from you.”

 

As the pair started getting closer to the main hall, the foot traffic around them was noticeably picking up. “Hey, Lizzie,” Michael said with a little more urgency. He gently coaxed her to a stop with a tug of her upper arm, and she rolled her eyes as she turned around to face him. “Seriously, you need to relax. Things couldn’t be going better right now.” Pushing a pair of wire-framed glasses back up his prominent nose, he smiled down at her. “The Pope is pretty much in our back pocket, which is all we could ever ask for, really. We’ve got a decent supply of oil coming in from the Gulf. You and your friends are all safe and secure. Since you guys are all playing by the rules, Levi and his little hotel thing have the green light from the Vatican _and_ my boss. We’ve both got stable jobs here, though in your case it’s contingent on blowing his Holiness a couple of times a week.” Elizabeth cocked her head and gave him an incredulous stare. “I’m happy, you’re happy, everyone’s happy. It’s all sunshine and rainbows.”

 

She sighed and crossed her arms. “Yes. Which begs the question...” Her bright green eyes flashed at him in annoyance. “Why is it you’re bothering me?”

 

“Ah, well, you see...” Michael took a quick look to his left and right, making sure no unwanted parties were listening in.

 

“Get to the point, Michael.”

 

“It’s nothing major, really,” he began, raising his hands defensively. “Just a little hiccup on your end. Easily corrected.”

 

“On _my_ end?” she asked dubiously.

 

“Levi’s end, to be specific.” He continued to smile amiably at her and keep his tone light, even though the tension in her shoulders was visibly building. “Just a minor issue that was brought to my attention.”

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“Well...” Michael paused, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I mentioned ‘playing by the rules,’ right?”

 

“Mhmm,” she relented with an irritated frown.

 

“It seems that Levi has taken in someone he shouldn’t have on his most recent hiring spree. An ‘unauthorized party,’ if you will.”

 

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. She usually was the first to know about this sort of thing, and it perturbed her a little that Michael got the drop on her. “Go on...” she said, her face scrunched in curiosity.

 

“Look,” he said, sweeping his arms to the side. “We know that your whole setup needs people to operate. Worker bees to keep making that sweet honey we all love so much. And we don’t mind you taking them from the jails and the nut-houses. I mean, it’s actually really brilliant. There’s so much overcrowding in our prison system nowadays that -”

 

“But?” she interjected.

 

“But…” Michael sighed and briefly glanced up at the ceiling as he searched for the right words. “It’s got to be within reason, you know?”

 

Elizabeth huffed, scowling as she waited for him to elaborate.

 

“It came to my attention the other day that Levi has taken in a murderer.”

 

Elizabeth’s eyebrows went up as she considered the implications. _A murderer?_ She stewed. That was unexpected. “Is that so?”

 

“Apparently, yes,” he said with a shrug. “A woman by the name of Eden Bennett.”

 

She knew what he was getting at without any needing any other details, and she knew it wasn’t an ideal situation for a variety of reasons. Still, her primary instinct being to protect Levi, she steeled her defenses and readied herself to counter whatever he threw at her. “Well,” she sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides in exasperation, “Like you said, you don’t mind him taking new recruits from the prisons. I fail to see why this is a problem.”

 

“Really?” he scoffed. “You really don’t know why harboring a murderess would be an issue?”

 

“It might turn a few heads,” she said amicably. “But it isn’t different from any other criminal.”

 

“It’s a mortal sin, Lizzie.”

 

“So?” she chortled with a toss of her head. “Maybe the bastard deserved it.”

 

“Whether or not it was justified is irrelevant.” He leveled with her eyes, doing his best to convey the gravity of his concern. “Thieves and adulterers are one thing. Hell, if we didn’t lock up so many women for having ‘loose morals’ you’d probably be out of business. But you and I both know we have to draw the line somewhere.”

 

Elizabeth mulled over his words thoughtfully for a second. He had a point, even though she wasn’t all that excited to agree with him.

 

“Who’d she kill?” she probed.

 

“Her husband,” he said somberly. “Arsenic poisoning, by the looks of it.”

 

“Ha! Now I know for a fact he had it coming.”

 

“Of course,” he said wryly, “All married men deserve to die.”

 

“Pretty much.”

 

“Damn it, Lizzie...” He closed his eyes, briefly rubbing his fingertips into his forehead.

 

“Okay,” she conceded, noting his frustration. “So she killed a guy. Who cares?”

 

“The Inquisition, for starters.”

 

“Why should they? It’s not like we turned her loose on the streets.”

 

“No, but now they’re getting questions. Questions they don’t know how to answer. Cases like this get a lot of attention. The public is involved. The victim’s family in particular are demanding some kind of satisfaction.”

 

Elizabeth slumped her shoulders. Her eyes absently followed a group of cloistered nuns that were traipsing down the hall while she tried to think of a response.

 

“Like I said,” he added with a touch of assurance, “It’s not a huge deal right now. Only myself and the Archdeacon of Bethel know about it. But we need to nip it in the bud before it gets any worse.”

 

“Then nip it!” she said with a truncated laugh. “Forge some documents, distract them with something else, do some magic.” She mockingly wiggled her fingers in the air. “You know, make it disappear. You’re good at that kind of thing.”

 

“I might be good,” he said, allowing her compliment to lift his ego a lot higher than she had intended. “But I’m not that good. You see, if the Archdeacon knows about it, it’s only a matter of time before the Archbishop does, too. It’ll spread to all the other diocese, one by one. Eventually Pope Silus will catch wind. And once the Pope notices, then you-know-who will find out, and before you know it we’ve got a class A clusterfuck on our hands. You know, chain of command and everything.”

 

“Alright then,” she said with a shrug of resignation. “What do you want me to do?”

 

Michael inched just a tad closer. “I know Levi is fond of his ‘pets,’ so to speak.” He placed his hands disarmingly in the pockets of his robes, and softened his eyes as he looked into hers. “But this… this is an unhealthy precedent to be setting. He’s going to have to hand her back over to the Inquisition.”

 

“ _Or_?” she snickered humorlessly, detecting the threat that was implicit in his request. He could try to play the nice guy and act sympathetic, but Elizabeth saw straight through the ruse, and she wasn’t about to play nice back.

 

“Hey, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?” he said easily, deflecting her anger with a smile. “Just ask him next time you’re at the Inn. No rush.”

 

“What if he says no? He’s pretty stubborn, you know.”

 

“Yeah, but he’s also pretty reasonable. I’m sure he’s not going to risk his entire operation for the sake of one woman.”

 

Elizabeth stood up a little straighter and folded her arms across her chest. “So you want me to go to him and ask him to turn one of his girls back in to the Kingdom?”

 

“Yes, in a nutshell.”

 

The two locked eyes and stared at each other for a moment, Elizabeth pursing her lips and scowling, Michael smiling affably.

 

_“_ _Michael!”_

 

The two turned their heads towards the sound. A gray-haired man dressed in Cardinal attire was waving at them from down the hall with one arm, the other holding a book tightly to his ribs. Having been acknowledged, he began walking briskly over.

 

They regarded each other once more, both aware that their conversation had come to an end. “So?” he asked lowly, with a patronizing tilt of his head.

 

“Consider it done,” she replied under her breath, offering a smile that was none too genuine.

 

“That’s a good girl,” he grinned.

 

Elizabeth wanted to smack the smirk off of his mouth, but the approaching man out of the corner of her eye forced her to watch her response.

 

With a cough to clear her throat, she raised her voice, attempting to keep her tone pleasant. “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Cardinal Michael.”

 

“Likewise, Miss Elizabeth.” Michael bowed at the waist and she curtsied , keeping it formal yet succinct. As the two men greeted each other, she turned on her heel, resuming her path down the hall with a pensive frown glued firmly to her mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re missing out on so much, you know.” Justine had a chair pulled up to the counter outside of the bathroom, and leaned into her reflection as she touched a dollop of concealer onto a couple of blemishes.

 

Eden slipped off her shoes while untying her apron. “I’m happy to stay in the room and read,” she said casually. They had had this conversation before. In the three months that they had been at the Inn, Eden had done whatever she could to avoid socializing or otherwise interacting with anyone she didn’t have to. And apart from her supervisor, a crotchety old woman by the name of Catherine, she hadn’t acquainted herself with anyone else. But Justine, being the social butterfly that she was, had been busy getting to know as many people as she could. Part of that included going to various parties and get-togethers that the other employees arranged, and with each engagement, she invariably begged Eden to come along with her.

 

“Come on!” she whined, bouncing her bare feet up and down on the carpet a couple of times. “I know you’ll have a good time. There’ll be drinks and food and cards, and you’ll get to see one of the suites!”

 

Eden walked over to her bed and peeled her veil away from her head, pins and all, before casting it unceremoniously on her pillow. “Maybe some other time.” She flung herself onto the mattress, back first, heaving a sigh in time with her body collapsing into it. “I’m exhausted. It’s been a really long day.”

 

Justine paused from opening a tube of mascara and let her forearms fall against the edge of the counter. She examined Eden’s listless figure in the mirror, then grunted. “Ugh! That’s what you always say!”

 

“Yes, and it’s always true,” she insisted. She rolled over to her side and extended her arm towards the nightstand, reaching for a book of eighteenth century poetry that rested on top of it.

 

“Don’t you have the day off tomorrow?” Justine asked, letting her mouth fall open as she swept the wand along her lashes.

 

“Yes...” she groaned. She snatched the book up and resumed laying on her back as she flipped it open.

 

“Then come with me!” Justine’s voice practically exploded with excitement. “Please please please!”

 

“Justine...”

 

“Okay, just come with me, for like, ten minutes, okay?” Having finished applying her mascara, she turned at the waist and peered at Eden, resting her chin on the wooden back of her chair. “And if you aren’t having fun after ten minutes, you can leave.”

 

Eden let her arms fall to her sides, keeping a thumb inserted in her book as she did. She was tired of being asked to accompany her roommate every other night to some drunken soiree. The repulsive, stomach-churning, and downright bizarre messes she had to clean up on a day-to-day basis were bad enough; every night she had to ask God for forgiveness for being implicit in whatever licentious activities had occurred in her assigned rooms. But at least she could take comfort in the fact that she was doing it because she had to. Her continued residence at the Inn relied on a monthly rent payment, and all of her food had to be purchased as well. She needed the money for, if nothing else, to continue existing.

 

But she had resolved to keep her nose clean and her conscience clear while she was stuck here. Apart from the occasional nightcap, she had abstained from indulging in alcohol. The only pleasure she allowed herself was a pack of cigarettes every now and again when she had the extra money. Other than that, each day consisted of rising early for work, coming back to an empty room, and reading until she fell asleep. Thankfully she didn’t bump into Justine very much. Her hours were later than Eden’s, and even if she had an early reprieve from work, she was usually out until the early morning, and consequently slept until very late, even on her off days.

 

When they did speak, the conversation usually went like this. And it usually ended in disappointment for Justine. “Not tonight,” Eden said firmly. She knew from experience that Justine’s prodding could be held off if she made some kind of promise to attend a future event. “Maybe next week. I think I’m off Thursday.”

 

Justine twisted her mascara closed and threw it onto the counter with obvious irritation. Then she stood up and turned around, placing her hands squarely on her hips. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of it _that_ easy! No more excuses. You’re coming out with me!”

 

“Come on, Justine...” Eden labored to sit back up in bed, swinging her legs over the side. “I’m tired...”

 

“Okay,” she began seriously, walking over until she stood in front of her. Eden looked up at the girl, getting an unanticipated glimpse of her lacy blue lingerie peeking out from beneath a plush white bathrobe. “I didn’t wanna have to tell you this, but...” Justine rolled her eyes a little and huffed. “Every time I go out, everyone always asks me about you.”

 

Eden arched a brow as she set her book to the side, folding her hands in her lap. “They… they ask about me?”

 

“Yes,” she said, almost taunting. “They’re like, ‘Oh, where’s your roommate? I haven’t seen her yet. Is she crazy or something? Did she really kill her husband?’”

 

“W-wait a second...” Eden stammered, rising to her feet. “What have you been telling them?”

 

Justine took an awkward step back, going from offensive to defensive in a fraction of a second. “Nothing!” she said quickly.

 

“I told you what happened. I didn’t kill him. He was on top of me and he just died all of a sudden.”

 

“Well I tried telling them that,” she said sternly, placing a palm flat against her chest. “But I mean, since you haven’t been talking to anybody, there’s gonna be rumors.”

 

“Justine!”

 

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” she almost shouted. As she held her arms out to the sides, Eden couldn’t help but take a second look at her scantily-clad figure, which was becoming more and more visible as her robe started slipping down over her shoulders. “You don’t talk about yourself. Ever. I’m not just gonna make something up.”

 

Eden opened her mouth to retort, then snapped it promptly back shut as she thought about it. Justine had a point. In spite of being constantly questioned by her unrelenting roommate, Eden kept her cards close to her chest, only giving away the bare minimum required to sate Justine’s curiosity. Being reluctant to share any details about her past, coupled with the fact that she was behaving like a recluse, it was only natural for people to talk, and Justine could only be expected to do so much damage control.

 

Eden slumped her shoulders and sighed. “You promise you won’t make me stay?”

 

Justine nearly knocked her over with her sudden, forceful hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” she shouted as she buried her face in Eden’s shoulder.

 

She returned the embrace with some reluctance. If the other residents were this curious about her, enough to make up stories, then she should probably make an appearance, if for no other reason than to save her reputation.

 

As Justine pressed her semi-nude body up against Eden’s, she felt an involuntary surge of excitement deep within her, something like a thrill. But when they pulled away from each other the feeling faded, and Eden forced herself to smile. She could only hide herself away for so long, she surmised. For good or for ill, it was time to reveal herself.

 

* * *

 

 

The lights were so dim that she had to squint to see anything. The music was so loud she wanted to cover her ears. But had she done so, she wouldn’t have been able to hear the person standing right in front of her.

 

“Eden! Oh my God! It’s so good to finally meet you!”

 

Eden cautiously extended her hand to the woman, who she had been told was named ‘Sarah May,’ reaching out to her, waiting for her to grasp it in her own. It was warm and soft, but the handshake was a little too firm for her liking.

 

“Yeah, I finally got her to come our of her shell,” added Justine, casting a friendly glance in Eden’s direction.

 

The redhead offered a polite smile to the woman in front of her. But inwardly, she was cringing at the coarse music that bombarded her ears. At least, she thought it was music. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before – harsh, dissonant, fast, downright uncomfortable. Certainly it wasn’t Kingdom approved.

 

“Welcome!” The woman let go of her hand and gestured enthusiastically around her. “Make yourself at home. And, uh… feel free to take off that veil.”

 

Eden’s hands sprang up to her head as she pressed them to her temples. When she had first entered the suite, she noticed that none of the other women there were wearing veils. Justine had made a comment before they left about not wearing it. But Eden felt naked without it. In the months she had been at the Inn, she had dutifully donned it every morning, keeping it firmly fastened to her head until she had retired for the night.

 

Justine had obviously abandoned the practice, and left for work every day without it. Occasionally she teased Eden for wearing it. _“_ _You don’t have to put that thing on anymore,”_ she had said. _“It’s not like you’re gonna get in trouble.”_

 

But it was a hard habit to break, especially considering her red hair. Her fellow orphans had often ridiculed her for it, and her superiors had practically admonished her for it. _“_ _Redheads are Devil spawn!”_ Mother Josephine had said. And whether or not it was true, it was enough to make Eden feel intensely ashamed of her red hair for as long as she was aware of it.

 

“She’s having a little trouble adjusting,” Justine piped up, noting her friend’s awkward reaction. “She likes to keep it on.”

 

The woman took a sip of her drink, which she held daintily by the long stem of the glass. “Alright, I guess,” she said with a smile. “Just don’t come crying to me if people look at you funny.”

 

With a brief nod, Eden shyly dropped her hands and clasped them in front of her waist.

 

She glanced around the room, trying not to be too obvious. She and Justine had gone all the way to the thirty-eighth floor on the service elevator, which they shared with a few other antsy party guests. According to Justine, Sarah May was one of the establishment’s most successful courtesans, and as such had earned her right to the largest suite available. Apart from its size, it was lavishly decorated, and set itself apart from every other room Eden had been exposed to by way of its individuality. No doubt the custom furnishings and artwork had cost this woman a pretty penny.

 

“So where you from, Eden?”

 

With a loud gulp, she curled her body inward, making herself even smaller than she already was. Even though Justine was noticeably shorter and more slender, the way she stood made her look even more diminutive than her companion. “I… I’m from Bethel,” she answered softly.

 

“What?” the woman asked, leaning in and cupping her ear.

 

“I’m from Bethel!” she said, louder this time.

 

“Oh, okay, so not far away!” An exuberantly dressed man with a tray full of glasses approached them. Draining the contents of her current glass, Sarah May traded it for a full one. “Have a drink!” she offered, motioning for Eden to take one.

 

Not wanting to be impolite, Eden plucked one of the glasses from the tray and held it to her chest, but not before taking a tiny sip. Justine took one too, and swallowed a healthy gulp before holding it gracefully in front of her face.

 

“So what’d you do to end up here?” Sarah asked, tucking her free hand into the crook of her arm. “Everyone’s saying you killed your husband.”

 

She said it almost dismissively, without the faintest trace of change in her porcelain face. Eden’s mouth went dry, however, and she cleared her throat several times before she summoned the spirit to answer her.

 

“I… I didn’t kill him,” she stuttered, taking another drink to steel her nerves. “He had a heart attack or something, but I was the only person around when he died, so...”

 

“...So they assumed you did it” Sarah stated, rather than asked. “Sounds about right. My husband died, too, but he had a brain tumor so they never accused me of anything. Just sent me off to St. Caroline’s with all the other widows.”

 

“But if he hadn’t died, you would’ve killed him, right?” Justine asked with a smirk.

 

Sarah tossed her wavy auburn hair back and laughed deeply at the suggestion. “Oh yeah! Mother fucker had it comin’, banging every other woman in Russell, fillin’ up the town with his little bastards. Thank God _I_ never fucked him, or I’d probably have syphilis or something.”

 

As the two women gabbed, Eden let her eyes wander. The room was filling up with people, mostly women, all dressed in colorful and provocative garments. Before they left their room earlier, Justine had tried to outfit Eden in something other than the modest tea-length dresses that she was used to. Even though she had her pick of a variety of discarded clothes in the Inn’s communal closet, she still opted for the uptight costume typical of Nicaean women. But as she was rapidly discovering, that sort of thing was anything but normal for the women here. Some wore dresses, but they were low-cut or otherwise flashy, and others did away with dresses entirely, sporting denim pants and shirts that she had only seen men wear.

 

And then, on top of everything else, was the makeup. Cosmetics were almost unheard of while Eden was growing up. If the girls wanted to make themselves more attractive, they settled for pinching their cheeks and smudging ashes on their eyelids, though this was heavily frowned upon by the nuns. But every woman here, as well as some of the men, had their faces decorated in rouges, powders, and lipsticks, making their features pop and sparkle like mad. Justine had adopted the practice of wearing makeup, but seeing this many people in one place all painted and dolled up was both shocking and fascinating.

 

“Sorry to cut this short,” Sarah said, her voice cutting into Eden’s thoughts. “I have to go say hi to everyone. You two have fun!” She and Justine leaned in to each other, bestowing a crisp kiss on either cheek before parting ways.

 

“C’mon!” said Justine, after Sarah had sauntered away. “There’s some other people I want you to meet.” Grabbing Eden’s hand, she dragged her along, making their way to a small group of people in the corner of the room.

 

Justine promptly thrust her way into the circle of three women and one man, hugging and giving airy kisses to each as she greeted them. Once the formalities had been dispensed, she gestured to the woman at her side, beaming as if she were showing off a trophy.

 

“I want you guys to meet my roommate, Eden.”

 

The way she said it carried a greater weight than usual, and the small audience responded in kind by widening their eyes and cocking their heads. It was obvious to Eden that her presence was a surprise, and an intriguing one at that.

 

“Oh...” one woman said tentatively, “Hello Eden, welcome!”

 

“So _you’re_ Eden,” the man said, narrowing his beady eyes at her and nodding slowly. “We’ve been wondering about you.”

 

Unable to come up with a response, Eden simply looked fearfully at the group in front of her. Noting her shyness, an older woman with short, silver curls spoke up. “We’re just curious,” she said, placing a bony hand on Eden’s shoulder and letting it slide along her arm. “There’s always a lot of gossip when we get new people in here.”

 

“Are you really a murderer?” A girl, who couldn’t have been older than eighteen, piped up, garnering a few hard looks from the people around her.

 

“No,” Eden was quick to answer. “I was falsely accused. My husband passed away, but the Coroner was unable to determine the cause of death, so -”

 

“-Why do you talk like a priest?” the girl interrupted with a chortle. “You sound so funny!”

 

“I grew up in an orphanage,” Eden responded. “I was raised by the Sisters of St. Louise.”

 

“Ahhh!” the group seemed to say in unison, sharing a few affirmative glances with each other.

 

“So what happened to _him_ then?” the man asked, smacking his lips after slurping his drink.

 

Justine looked at her roommate expectantly, giving her a gently encouraging smile. Eden did her best to describe her predicament to their satisfaction, while giving them as few details as she could. Even though she hated telling strangers about her history, she wasn’t about to let the lies keep floating around, not while she could help it. Amidst the scrutinizing looks and cutting queries, she did her best to answer calmly and without embellishment. No doubt there was already enough of that without her interference.

 

Eventually, the people she was talking with appeared to get bored of the conversation, realizing there wasn’t anything unusual or enthralling about her story. Much to Eden’s relief, the topic turned to something more mundane, and she took on the role of being a silent observer.

 

Before long, Justine had finished her drink and scampered off to the bar. The others seemed to forget that Eden was even there and began talking casually amongst each other. Feeling a little out of her element, she began backing away, distancing herself from the awkward conversation she was forced to be a part of.

 

Seeing that Justine was busy chatting it up with a handsome bartender, Eden tiptoed off down the hall, surreptitiously exploring Sarah May’s hotel suite.

 

Creeping cautiously down the short hallway in the back, she came upon a door that was cracked open. She paused in front of it, straining her ears to pick up the conversation that was going on behind it.

 

_“_ _If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”_

 

_“Fine, are you okay with getting pissed on?”_

 

Following a chorus of laughter, Eden held onto the door frame and stuck her nose into the narrow crack. There was a pungent smell that hit her, one she couldn’t quite place, along with tobacco smoke and the subtle aroma of alcohol.

 

_“_ _Hey, who’s there?”_

 

As Eden was leaning in, the door began to creak and open up a little, just enough to be perceptible. She started as she realized that the question was directed at her, and promptly pulled herself away from the entrance.

 

She was about to walk away when the door swung open, revealing Ashia’s lovely smiling visage standing before her.

 

“Oh, hello. Esther, was it?”

 

“E-eden,” she replied, with some considerable effort.

 

Ashia’s long, thick hair was loose over her back and shoulders, flowing over her ample bosom and dusting the line of her exposed midriff. She wore a floor-length skirt, knotted at the hip, with a slit that revealed the sumptuous curve of her leg. “Why don’t you come in?” she asked casually.

 

Eden froze nervously where she stood, unsure of how to answer her request. “I’m, uh… I don’t want to intrude...”

 

“It’s a party,” she said with a throaty chuckle. “The more the merrier.”

 

Eden took a few cautious steps inside before Ashia closed the door behind them. Then, the woman resumed her place in the corner, on the floor among a nest of pillows. Seven other women were crammed into the room, strewn about on the bed and the floor, wherever they could find a spot. A few of them eyed her conspicuously when she came in, the rest being too preoccupied with drink and conversation to give her any notice.

 

“Girls, this is Eden.” Ashia’s voice rose over the din as she settled into a relaxed pose.

 

Eden smiled and waved apprehensively at the women, who acknowledged her entrance with crisp nods and short words of greeting.

 

“Are you the new girl? Justine’s roommate?” asked a young, petite brunette, who was perched on the corner of the bed.

 

“Yes,” Eden replied, taking care to keep both her voice and her posture unassuming.

 

Another woman offered her a friendly smile, patting the floor next to her in an invitation for Eden to sit.

 

“Why are you still wearing that stupid fucking veil?” A woman in her mid-thirties with a chestnut bob sat comfortably in the center of the bed, her legs crossed as she poured herself a glass of wine. She only glanced at Eden momentarily, her heavily-lined features scrunching up into a scowl as she looked back down at her wine glass. “Take it off.”

 

“It’s hard for us gingers, Maggie,” said a plump redhead sitting against the wall. “Give her a break.” She paused, then made an aside to Eden. “I’m Lucille, by the way, but everyone calls me Lacey.”

 

“Whatever,” Maggie said, taking a drink directly from the bottle before handing it off. “Hey Chris, you almost done with that joint?”

 

“I’d be done a lot sooner if people didn’t keep interrupting me...” A dark-skinned woman with long dreadlocks sat against the bed just beneath her, face tightened in concentration as she carefully rolled a hand-made cigarette in her fingers.

 

“You ever smoke pot?” asked Maggie, looking at her fingernails rather than Eden.

 

“No...” she said, sweeping her eyes around the room and gauging the reactions of the others.

 

Sensing her hesitation, Ashia spoke up with a calm smile. “It’s very relaxing,” she said reassuringly.

 

Once Chris finished rolling the cigarette to her satisfaction, she grasped it between her lips and sparked it up. The strong smell of it hit Eden almost instantly. The woman took a deep breath, filling her lungs with smoke, and held it momentarily before letting it out into the room. At the tail end of her exhale, she started coughing, and the fit went on for a good few seconds even as she passed it up to Maggie.

 

“Careful, this shit’s strong,” she said in-between hacks.

 

Maggie didn’t seem to care about her warning, though, and took a confident drag. “So did you do it?” she asked, following the expiration of the smoke in her lungs.

 

Eden looked to either side as if to ensure the woman was indeed speaking to her. “Do what?”

 

“Your husband. Did you kill him or not?” She sucked sharply on the joint one more time before passing it off to her left.

 

“Don’t be so crass, Margaret,” Ashia scolded.

 

“What?” she asked indignantly with a curl of her lip. “It’s what everyone’s talkin’ about.”

 

“Why’s it gotta be the first thing you bring up?” Lacey countered defensively. “You can introduce yourself, at least.” The cigarette had made its way to her, and she paused to take a puff before passing it on.

 

“Fine,” she groaned into the rim of her wine glass. “I’m Maggie.” She reached across the bed and retrieved a pack of cigarettes. Removing one with her mouth, she quickly ignited it and took a hasty drag. “So did you kill your husband?”

 

A couple of the women laughed, while a few others shook their heads.

 

“Jesus Christ, Maggie...” Lacey sighed.

 

“It’s a simple question!” she insisted, her voice raising sharply.

 

“No, I didn’t kill him,” Eden finally uttered. The entire room turned their heads at the sound of her wavering voice floating into the air, their eyes widening with interest.

 

Maggie pulled her legs up until she was sitting on her knees, then momentarily searched for an ashtray. “You don’t have to lie, ya know,” she said casually. “We’re all criminals.”

 

“It’s not a lie,” she stated. She crossed her legs where she sat, toying with the hem of her dress and trying to get it to lay flat over her knees.

 

“Leave her alone, Maggie,” a small girl with raven tresses chirped from the opposite corner. She had her knees to her chin, and looked about as uncomfortable as Eden was.

 

“No, I wanna hear about it,” said another.

 

“Calm down, ladies,” said Ashia, receiving the joint with a nod as it was passed to her. “Let’s try to make our new member feel welcome, shall we?”

 

“She ain’t exactly _new_ ,” Maggie said with a disapproving frown. “You’ve been here for what? Two? Three months?”

 

“Not everybody wants to get drunk and high every night,” said the woman sitting to Eden’s right. She had a short mess of kinky black curls, and round cheeks that dimpled as she smiled over to Eden. The joint came to her. As she took a drag, her eyes went slightly cross trying to focus on the burning cherry.

 

“Why wouldn’t she?” asked another with a laugh. A handful of others chuckled in agreement.

 

“Okay then,” Maggie continued loudly, giving her cigarette a sharp flick to discard the ash. “If you didn’t kill him, what happened?”

 

Before she could answer, and after a hearty bout of coughing from the girl next to her, Eden felt an elbow poking into her upper arm. The woman offered the joint to her, pointing the unlit end cordially towards her face.

 

Eden was more than hesitant to take it, and the reluctance on her face was obvious.

 

“It’s just weed,” she said with a grin.

 

“Marijuana,” Ashia clarified, snuggling into her pillows. “It can’t hurt you.”

 

Eden absorbed the expectant looks of the women around her. They all seemed anxious for her to smoke it, if for no other reason than to keep the momentum going. Caving into the pressure she felt, Eden grasped the thin end between her thumb and forefinger.

 

It was moist from the lips of everyone who had smoked it previously. Trying not to overthink the situation, she brought it to her mouth and took a small hit. Almost as soon as she inhaled it, she let it out, a tiny cloud of smoke shooting from her mouth.

 

“No, no, no!” Maggie huffed disparagingly. “You gotta hold it.”

 

“After you hit it, hold it in your lungs for a couple of seconds,” Lacey instructed from across the room.

 

Briefly studying the smoldering joint, Eden took a deep breath of clean air and resolved to try again. She put it back to her lips, this time taking a healthier inhalation of smoke before suppressing it into her virgin lungs.

 

But the harshness of the smoke made her lose control immediately, and she was overcome by a severe coughing fit before she could even fully expel it.

 

A couple of the women, including Ashia, let out a few teasing giggles. “Way to go!” said the woman next to her, who thumped her on the back in encouragement.

 

All at once, Eden’s vision turned hazy and became speckled with stars. Her extremities tingled, and her eyelids got heavy. A potent rush coiled up the back of her neck and fogged over her brain. The world around here seemed to become more distant somehow, and in spite of the strained atmosphere, she felt surprisingly at ease.

 

“Quit hoggin’ it!” Eden was brought back around by the voice of the woman to her left, who reached impatiently for the joint she was now holding listlessly in her fingers. With a faraway look in her eye, she passed it off, her arm feeling heavy from the effort of extending it.

 

“C’mon, cherry pie, finish your story,” Maggie barked.

 

“Uh, well...” Eden swallowed dryly, squinting around the room with bleary eyes as she gathered her thoughts. She found the exercise of forming words far more effortful than usual, likely due to the drug she had just imbibed. “It was a… uh… night like any other, I guess...”

 

“It was a dark and stormy night!” Chris said dramatically, chuckling as she received the joint that was making its way full circle. There were a few hushed giggles that followed, and Eden’s cheeks flushed red in response.

 

“We just finished dinner,” she continued slowly. “He was inebriated already. Started drinking as soon as he got home. Sometimes I think he probably started drinking at work, he would get drunk so fast.” Her gaze drifted for a few seconds, recalling the evening with a sense of dread, muted slightly by her high. The rest of the room was silent, waiting raptly for her to keep going.

 

“Anyway, so we ate dinner. I started washing the dishes, and he went into the other room and turned on the radio. He didn’t sit down, though. He kept pacing around, filling up his glass with whiskey and slamming it down. Putting it away pretty hard. I thought I was going to throw up… he only paces around like that when he wants to… _wanted_ to...”

 

She squeezed her eyes shut against her own memories, against the way she corrected herself, against the intense glares of the women who surrounded her. Peeking between her eyelids, she could see them, leaning forward, closing in, lips parted, looking as if they wanted to devour her.

 

“He wanted to fuck you?” asked Maggie, her blunt choice of words undercut by her soft, curious stare.

 

Eden nodded. “So he turns off the radio. I try to go down to the basement, do laundry or something, pretty much any excuse to make myself busy. But he knew I would try something like that, so he snuck up behind me. Grabbed me around the waist.”

 

She could almost feel his calloused, grubby hands snaking around her thin frame, his dirty fingernails pressing into the flesh of her breast as he groped her, the rank scent of his moist breath floating past her ear and into her flared nostrils. Just the thought made her flesh sprout goosebumps, and a shiver of disgust shook along her spine and wormed its way into her core. She had gone over the story with Justine before, but for whatever reason, right now, she felt as if she were living through the scene anew.

 

“Then what happened?” Lacey asked softly, her eyes wide with concern.

 

“He… he dragged me upstairs. T-told me to get undressed.” Eden paused in the wake of another chill, this one reminiscent of the cold air in that bedroom, stinging her exposed flesh as she struggled to keep her composure. “And then he took his clothes off. He… he didn’t even look at me. I asked him if he wanted me to bend over. That’s how he usually wanted it. But he asked me to lie on my back.

 

“I…” she shook her head a little as her shoulders tensed up. “I don’t remember exactly what he said after that, or what he did. When he does that… _did_ that… I tried to, you know, shut myself down. Not think about it.”

 

She paused, finding herself stuck in the narrative. Her throat rippled with a dry gulp, and her hazy eyes were made even more so by a wave of oncoming tears. The curly-haired woman next to her put a hand on her back and began rubbing it gently. “It’s okay sweetie,” she cooed.

 

Eden sniffled once, willing herself to finish the story. “Usually the whole time I’m trying not to cry. You’d think after so many times I’d be immune to it, but I never was. It was always awful. This time, though, I didn’t feel like crying. All I remember is… I felt so _angry_. It’s weird, but, I remember, right before it happened, I was thinking to myself, ‘I hope you die.’

 

“And then, then it was like...” Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling. “It was like a prayer had been answered. He stopped moving. He went all white, and his eyes were wide open. Like he was scared. Then he coughed…” she dropped her head as the image came back to her. “And I was _covered_ in blood. And then he just fell on top of me. Collapsed. He was dead.”

 

“Whoa…” said Chris, peeking at Eden through heavy-lidded red eyes. The other women, while not vocalizing anything, seemed to feel similarly. “That’s fucking crazy.”

 

“Sounds like bullshit to me,” said Maggie, finishing off her drink.

 

“Yeah, I know, it sounds like I made it up,” Eden said half-heartedly. “And I knew nobody would believe me if I told them what happened. I figured the only thing I could do was run. I washed the blood off my face, packed my things, and got on the next train out of town.”

 

“And nobody stopped you?” the raven-haired girl asked, her arms visibly tightening around her legs.

 

“The conductor asked me where I was going. I made up some story about going on a pilgrimage or something. I honestly don’t remember. My mind was still blank. I was in denial about the whole thing.”

 

“Where did you go?” asked Lacey.

 

“Here. To Sinai.”

 

“Ha!” came a loud burst from Maggie’s chest. “So you’re on the lam and you come to fucking _Sinai_? That’s rich...”

 

“It was the first train out of town,” Eden said with a hint of shame.

 

“How long did you make it before they got you?” Chris asked.

 

“Four days. I realize now that I shouldn’t have stopped at Sinai. I should have kept going. Should have gone southeast and made a break for it, get out of Nicaea altogether. But I barely had enough money to buy food. I couldn’t afford another train ticket. So I guess I kind of gave up. I went to a shelter and just… waited.”  


A somber stillness took hold of the room. Even Maggie looked a little dumbfounded, and kept her mouth clamped shut in lieu of a smart comment. After several tense seconds elapsed, Ashia’s honeyed voice penetrated the silence. “I’m very sorry you had to endure all of that, Eden,” she said with genuine concern. “I’m glad you could find refuge here with us.”

 

“I dunno,” said Maggie, lighting up a cigarette. “Sounds fishy to me.”

 

“ _I_ believe you,” said Lacey, giving Maggie a dirty glare before smiling fondly at Eden.

 

“Stranger things have happened,” said Ashia, adding a dash of finality to her voice to stave off any other comments.

 

 

“I guess so,” Maggie huffed in resignation. Predictably, though, she was unwilling to let things settle as far as Eden was concerned. “Doesn’t explain why you’ve been hiding from us all this time.”

 

“I’m not… not very...” Eden stammered. On top of her mind still being foggy from the joint, Maggie’s scrutiny was making her nervous. “I didn’t think I was going to fit in. I’m a maid. And you’re all...”

 

“Whores?”

 

The word was snarled out of Maggie’s mouth, and her expression twisted with accusation.

 

Eden regretted her choice of words immediately, cursing the drugs and alcohol for her waning inhibitions. “No, not like that!” Her chest tightened with panic, and she raised her arms defensively against the woman’s impending scorn.

 

“What, you think ‘cause you grew up in a convent you’re better than us?” Added Chris.

 

“You’re not special, you know,” Maggie sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “We’ve all been raped. You think we’re supposed to feel sorry for you?”

 

“I haven’t been raped,” the black-haired girl squeaked from her isolated corner.

 

“Shut up, Anna!” Chris snapped at her. The girl promptly pressed her lips together and went back to hugging her knees.

 

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” said Eden, her voice audibly shaking. The adrenaline of being confronted was cutting through the thickness in her head, and she felt almost immediately sober. “I was just trying to stay out of everyone’s way. I didn’t know anybody cared about why I was here, or what happened to me. I… I’d like to be friends...”

 

Even Eden thought she sounded pathetic. She hadn’t even heard of these women a few hours ago. Now she was being backed into a corner, and found herself begging for their mercy.

 

Maggie let out a deep breath, appearing to settle down somewhat. “Alright then,” she said, angrily snuffing out her cigarette. “You wanna be friends?”

 

“Y-yes...” she whimpered.

 

“You wanna be one of us? Wanna fit in?”

 

Eden nodded vigorously.

 

Maggie’s face went hard again, the words that followed hissed through clenched teeth. “Then take off that STUPID. FUCKING. VEIL.”

 

Eden’s heart lept into her throat. Her fingertips sprung up and pressed against the edge of the veil that concealed the hairline of her forehead. Her pulse was racing as full-blown panic took hold. It should have been simple. It was just a piece of clothing after all. It was just her head. Her hair. But after all these years… years of being whipped into subordination by nuns, years of being stripped naked unwillingly at the hands of her husband, years of being a slave to everyone’s will but her own, her modesty was all she had left. It was the last tether she had to normalcy after she had been branded a criminal. It was the one small act of devotion she could give to the Church, to God, a symbol of the faith she still bore from two decades of inundation. And she clung to it covetously. As if it were the most sacred piece of her identity. As if she would become nothing without it.

 

“She’ll take it off when she’s ready, Mags,” Lacey said, gently defensive. Judging by her withered posture, though, she was terrified to say anything else.

 

“No,” Maggie said flatly. “You wanna be one of us, you have to take that fucking thing off!”

 

Eden’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. She simply kept her hands over her head, protecting the garment as if it were one of her own children.

 

“You know what the veil means, right? It means oppression. It means control. It means rape, violence, everything that’s keeping you down. We don’t wear them because we’re not slaves. We’re not property. We’re _free._ But as long as you wear it, you’re still a slave to men. You’re still a slave to your dead husband. You’re just another bug under Pope Silus’ fancy boots.”

 

She attempted to cut through the clutter of her mind and buy what Maggie was saying, but all Eden could do was freeze, her face awash with fear, the urges of fight or flight pounding through her bloodstream and begging her to react.

 

But she couldn’t move. Not even when Maggie scrambled out of bed, her skinny arm darting for Eden’s covered head.

 

“Take it off!” she growled, catching the black veil in her fingertips.

 

“Please, stop!” Eden leaned back against the onslaught, fighting with all her strength to keep the garment in place.

 

“Maggie!” Lacey shouted, perching up on her knees.

 

“Take it off! Now!” The woman now latched on with both hands, tugging Eden’s head violently from side to side in an attempt to wrest it out of her hold.

 

“Margaret, that’s enough!” boomed Ashia, her softness replaced with harsh authority.

 

But the woman’s command fell on deaf ears, and Maggie continued her assault.

 

“Please,” begged Eden, whining and whimpering as she felt the bobby pins in her hair beginning to loosen, tears pricking the backs of her eyes.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Maggie!” The woman next to Eden tried to come to her rescue, throwing herself between them and grabbing one of Maggie’s arms.

 

Just as Ashia rose to her feet, Maggie flung her body back with a roar, Eden’s veil clasped furiously in her fists.

 

A rush of air wafted over her head. Her locks swung over her back and fell freely over her shoulders. Eden laid her palms over her head, doing whatever she could to conceal herself, feeling as exposed as if she had been stripped naked.

 

“Eden!” Ashia gasped.

 

But before she could say anything else, Eden darted to her feet. She tore out of the room, hands fixed to her scalp, tears streaming down her face. Terrified, she sought an exit, stumbling blindly for the front door. All she could think of was escape. She had to leave. Had to get to safety...

 

Yet when she opened the door and spilled out of the suite, it wasn’t into the hall, but into the open air, and all at once her body was enveloped by the balmy, windless night of early summer.

 

She collapsed onto the railing of the balcony, burying her eyes into her forearm. She sunk to her knees, kneeling as if in prayer, running a shaky hand along her exposed hair as she wept. The mortification of what she had just endured racked every muscle, and seemed to intensify with each sob.

 

 _Why did I come here? Why did I think this was a good idea?_ She admonished herself repeatedly, wishing as hard as she could that she could simply disappear. Begging God to take her away. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life as she, in this moment, wanted to be alone.

 

But evidently, it was a prayer that God had chosen to ignore.

 

“Jesus Christ, Princess, what the fuck happened to you?”


	6. Chapter 6

Zel’s voice came as such a shock that she stopped crying instantly. Still in panic mode, she jumped to her feet and flailed back into the wooden door.

 

“Hey now, take it easy,” he said, stretching out his arms, palms down. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

 

Eden’s chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath. She placed a hand over her chest, attempting to quell the frantic pace of her heart.

 

Zel gave her a once-over, doing his best to make an assessment of her condition. Whatever had happened, she was shaken up pretty bad. She looked like a cornered animal, ready to jump headfirst off the balcony if he got too close. The light of the moon was reflected by her glistening cheeks, stained with tears that she was now trying to wipe away.

 

“What happened?” he asked again, as gently as he could manage.

 

Finally, Eden’s breath began to even out. Her body language remained guarded, but she had stepped away from the door, and was visibly relaxing as she came to grips with her surroundings.

 

“I...” she began shakily. “I was...”

 

But whatever composure she had gained crumbled before she could explain, and she sucked in several hiccuping breaths as her tears revved up again. She sunk her face into her hands, shielding herself from Zel and muffling her cries. “I… one of them…. They…. They took my...” she mumbled between sobs. She was so distraught that she was unable to string together a coherent sentence.

 

“Hey, hey! Relax...” He stepped toward her slowly, keeping his arms extended and doing his best to appear non-threatening. She recoiled just a bit when she noticed him advancing, but he kept inching forward, reaching out to her with calm, steady hands. “You’re alright, just calm down...”

 

She monitored his approach through the slits in her fingers. She thought about backing away, but quickly realized that her only other option was going back into Sarah May’s suite. Hastily, Eden went back and forth between her options, then promptly decided to stay where she was. Zel may have been an unsavory and unscrupulous individual, but he hadn’t done anything to harm her thus far. He was safe, relatively speaking.

 

Despite him coming forward at a snail’s pace, Eden still jumped when she felt Zel’s hands cupping her shaking shoulders. The heat of his skin seared rapidly through the fabric of her sleeve. As if by magic, the tension in her shoulders dissipated, and her arms fell to her sides. In one fluid motion, he pulled her inward, and Eden didn’t resist in the slightest as her head fell into the curve of his neck.

 

Her body went limp, even as he circled his arms around her back, completing his embrace.

 

He was warm and comforting. Eden’s guard was cast aside and she gave herself up to it, accepting his compassion completely. The fact that she was being held by a man, particularly a man who was hardly more than an acquaintance, didn’t seem to phase her, much to her own surprise. She was so worn and battered from the crisis she had endured just moments ago that she was oblivious to the moral repercussions. She surrendered to the solace he was offering, and gave herself permission to lean into him and release her anguish.

 

She continued crying for several minutes. Zel stood patiently, a soothing hand circling her upper back as her tears soaked the fabric of his collar. Eventually, her sorrow ran its course, and her trembling figure began to still as she came down from the emotional release.

 

Only when her sobs had completely given way to even breaths did he pull away, keeping his hands firmly affixed to her shoulders as he did.

 

“I… I’m sorry,” she sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said lightly, taking care to temper his usual cocky smile. “Now, are you gonna tell me what happened?”

 

She briefly met his stare. His amber eyes sparkled mirthfully in the darkness. All at once becoming aware of the intense eye contact, she felt a wave of heat rush to her cheeks. She nodded hastily and looked down at her feet, not wanting to linger. “Yes,” she said, hardly a whisper. “I was in the bedroom with Ashia and a bunch of other girls. I got into an argument with someone and she…” Eden looked back up at Zel, and put her hands over her head, remembering with embarrassment that her hair was exposed. “She took my veil.”

 

Her face drooped into an exaggerated pout that was so piteous Zel couldn’t help but chuckle. “Aww, you poor thing!” he teased.

 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she said, trying her best to be stern. But his jovial attitude was infectious, and as incredulous as he was, she couldn’t maintain her annoyance.

 

“Well the way you were cryin’ I thought you mighta been attacked.”

 

“I _was_ attacked!” she insisted with a stamp of her foot. “She tore it off my head. Practically ripped my hair out.”

 

His brows lowered, and his voice turned more serious. “Who?” he asked, though it came off more as a demand.

 

The sudden shift in his attitude and the tightening of his hands around her upper arms made her tense up a little. She was almost afraid to say who did it, lest it result in more trouble for her down the road. “M-maggie. That is… I mean Margaret. I don’t know her last name.”

 

“Oh, well that explains _everything_ ,” he groaned. He released her carefully from his grip and slipped his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He opened the pack and offered it to Eden.

 

She mumbled her thanks as she took one and placed it between her lips. As appreciative as she was, though, she couldn’t help but dwell on the absence of Zel’s touch. She could still feel the warmth of his hands over her shoulders, and the sensation faded slowly like a ghost into the starry night.

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, leaning forward as he lit her smoke.

 

“Maggie’s a fuckin’ bitch,” he said through the cigarette in his own lips. “Pardon my french,” he added, his eyes bouncing up briefly. “She’s had a chip on her shoulder for years.” He paused, cupping his hand around the lighter and sparking up his smoke, his face lighting up briefly from the flame. “She used to be really popular back in the day. With the customers, I mean.” He replaced the lighter in his pocket and turned outward. Then he leaned into the balcony railing, taking a long drag as he swept his gaze over the night lights of Sinai. “But, you know, she got older, like people tend to do. And her regulars started going elsewhere.”

 

Eden paced over to the edge of the balcony and stood next to him, taking care not to settle in too close. “Do the older women not get any… _customers_?” she asked, finding the use of the word in this context somewhat repulsive.

 

“Oh they still do. If they play their cards right, get a guy emotionally invested, they can get regular business up until he dies. Hell, the Bishop of Corinth put Phoebe in his fucking will.” He paused to take another drag. “Then of course, you got customers who like the whole grandma thing.”

 

Eden turned to him, a puzzled and somewhat offended expression on her face.

 

“There’s a fetish for everything, Princess,” he said with a smirk. “That’s kinda why we’re here.”

 

“So what’s Maggie’s problem, then?”

 

“Haven’t you noticed?” he chortled. “She’s a cunt.”

 

Eden’s throat seized up as she tried not to choke on the smoke she was inhaling. The way he said it was so matter-of-fact that she couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her mouth.

 

“She’s always had an attitude problem,” he continued. “But five, ten years ago, she was hot enough that nobody gave a shit. The pussy was good enough guys were willing to put up with her to get it. Now that her twat is all dried up and her looks are startin’ to go, she doesn’t have anything else to fall back on.”

 

Eden nodded, trying not to look too shocked by his colorful language. “I guess I understand. But why’d she go after me?”

 

Zel shrugged. “Probably cause your young. Or cause you’re nice. She’s bitter cause she fucked up her career, and her way of dealing with it is to take it out on everybody else.”

 

Eden took a second to absorb his words, staring thoughtfully at the skyline. “If she’s so mean, how come she has so many friends?”

 

“Ha! Friends? _Her_? Princess, nobody likes her. They’re fucking _afraid_ of her. If she died tomorrow, nobody would go to her funeral.”

 

The next few moments went by in silence. Zel finished off the last of his cigarette and flicked the butt over the railing. Eden did the same. Then, finding her hands unoccupied, she started fidgeting with her hair. It was beyond awkward knowing that her head was uncovered, and she couldn’t resist the urge to conceal it, even if the best she could do was simply run her fingers through the strands.

 

“You’re really havin’ a hard time without that veil, aren’t ya?” Zel said with an admonishing smile. “Most of the girls who come here can’t wait to take it off.”

 

Eden nervously averted her eyes, attempting to hide the embarrassment on her face. “It’s just, you know, I’ve been wearing it forever. I… I feel naked without it. And plus… you know… I have red hair...”

 

“So?”

 

“So...” she said firmly, as if Zel should have found it self-evident.

 

“It’s kinda rare. You should be proud of it.”

 

“Yeah, well, tell that to Mother Josephine,” she grumbled, her restless feet beginning to pace to the door and back.

 

“Oh, so a nun fucked with your head and made you feel guilty about it, huh? Shocker...”

 

“She used to tell me when I was little that no one would want to adopt me because I had ‘demon blood’ or something like that.”

 

Zel’s brow furrowed coarsely in sympathetic anger. “What a bitch!”

 

Eden’s head bobbed up and down, silently albeit enthusiastically agreeing with the description.

 

“Well you know that’s not true, right?”

 

She was still trying not to look at him. But his eyes were fixed tight on her, following her as she continued pacing back and forth. After a few seconds, she made her way back to the edge and resumed leaning on the railing, clutching her hair in her fist and holding it at the nape of her neck. “I guess not,” she relented, though by her tone she didn’t sound very sure of herself.

 

“It’s not,” he repeated. He put his hands casually back in his pockets and moseyed over to her, attempting to capture her attention.

 

As he drew nearer, Eden couldn’t avoid looking at him any longer. She turned her head to meet his gaze, instantly dazzled by just how bright his eyes were in the darkness. He tossed his head, shaking away the straight black hairs that were falling over his forehead. His wide mouth was curled up in a permanent smile, the kind that made Eden want to grin right back at him.

 

But she bit the inside of her lip and turned away, shyness overcoming her desire to keep looking at him.

 

“Hey now...” Zel grasped her gently around the elbow, tugging her back to face him. “Listen. I know you don’t like the idea of walking around without a veil on. But trust me, you don’t need it.”

 

Eden simply stared dubiously up at him in response. She wanted to say something, but as he bored into her eyes with his, and his hand drifted up the length of her arm and back to her shoulder, she could scarcely manage to breathe, let alone speak.

 

“Here...” Gently, but with authority, he placed his hand over hers, which was still holding her hair behind her neck. He confidently curled his fingers around her palm and tugged downward, coaxing her to release her locks and let them fall over her back. “Lemme see.”

 

His head bobbed to either side as he examined the top of her head. With one hand still holding hers, the other drifted up to her forehead. He squinted in concentration, taking a second to consider what he wanted. Then, lock by lock, he nimbly sorted out the tresses, placing them around her face and letting them lay against her chest.

 

By now, Eden’s heart was pounding so loud she thought he might hear it. As he wordlessly continued his work, she clenched her teeth to keep her jaw from hanging open. There was a small crease between his brows as he focused on his task, and a small smile was still evident on his mouth.

 

Once he had finished to his satisfaction, he let go of her hand. Just as the hallow feeling of his receding touch began to hit her, he grabbed her by the chin, lifting it up until she had no choice but to look at him.

 

“You have beautiful hair, Eden,” he stated, as if it were a universally understood fact. “You shouldn’t hide it. You should be proud of it. Show it off.”

 

The touch of his fingertips on her chin made her freeze as a warm pulse of blood traveled from the site of his hand, along her neck, down her chest, and settled somewhere deep within. She could feel the beat of her heart in her entire body, right down to the tips of her toes.

 

His smile began to soften around the edges. Gradually, his objective examination of her face melted into a heavy-lidded gaze of admiration. “You’re really pretty, you know that?”

 

Eden was positive that she would either faint; or, failing that, her heart would explode. But before either of them could say anything else, the balcony door whipped open, revealing a red-faced and panicked Justine.

 

“ _There_ you are!” she said, the terrified look in her eye diminishing into a cautious relief. Before she knew it, Eden was pulled into a tight hug, her arms pinned to her sides by Justine’s embrace.

 

“Are you okay?” she spat out, stepping back and taking hold of Eden’s hands. “I heard what happened. I can’t believe Maggie did that to you!”

 

Eden opened her mouth, but was promptly cut short by Justine’s frenzied excitement. “Did she hurt you? Someone said she ripped out your hair!” Justine grabbed Eden by the cheeks and tilted her head downward, giving her scalp a hasty examination. “It looks like it’s all there. Oh God, Eden, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think something like this would happen, honest!”

 

“It’s alright, Justine,” Eden said, calmly raising her hand to quiet her down. “It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“You’re right, it was that bitch, Maggie!” she yelled, scowling angrily as the name passed her lips. “You know I never liked her, ever since that first night I went over to her room. She was so mean, even when I was new. They say she can’t get clients anymore. Well, I know why! I mean who would want to-”

 

“Heya Justine, long time no see,” chimed in Zel, cutting her off.

 

“Zel! Oh my god, thank you SOOO much for taking care of her!” Justine lurched forward and gave him a fierce but truncated hug. “It’s alright, I got her now.” She fevershly took hold of Eden’s hand, giving her arm a jerk to get her attention. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

 

Justine’s pull was so fast and forceful that she didn’t have time to protest. She could only look helplessly over her shoulder, catching one last glimpse of Zel before she was dragged out the door. Just before he disappeared from sight, he gave her a wink, with a haughty, knowing smile splashed over his face.

 

“See ya around, Princess.”


	7. Chapter 7

“ _Hey boss, you decent?”_

 

Levi continued resting his forehead against his propped up hand, not even a flinch at the sound of Zel outside the door.

 

“Come in,” he said, raising his voice while avoiding any emotional embellishment. He was wrapped up in the letter he was penning, laboring over the wording. It was going to the Archbishop of Jericho, after all. A slip of the pen could be seen as an insult. Or, even worse, as ineptitude.

 

The sound of Zel’s boots thumped against the floor, growing louder as he entered the office. “Whatchya doin’?” he asked, making a b-line for the bar behind Levi’s desk.

 

“Trying to convince the Archbishop of Jericho to give us another try,” he said disparagingly.

 

“Oh yeah, after that shit with Thaddeus?” Zel picked up a tumbler and a crystal decanter of brown liquid, sloshing it generously into the glass.

 

“It was hardly Thaddeus’ fault.” Levi set his pen on the desk, stretching out his aching fingers. It was moments like this he longed for an old-fashioned keyboard. “Paladin Garner was the one who decided to fall in love with a prostitute. But, as is usually the case, it puts our organization in an unfavorable light.”

 

“Fuckin’ Thaddeus...” Zel paced back to the front of Levi’s desk, then plopped down in a leather armchair with a sigh. “What is it with that guy? Does he have a magic asshole or somethin’?”

 

Levi leaned back in his chair, letting out a small chuckle as he folded his hands in his lap. “He’s very popular.”

 

“I guess I just don’t get it. Like, he’s not that good-looking. I mean he’s alright. But the way these guys fight over him you’d think he shit diamonds and came ice cream.”

 

“I can only imagine his appeal,” Levi said with a smile. He pulled out a drawer to his right and slid the letter inside, closing it noiselessly. “So,” he began, lacing his fingers together on propped elbows. “What’s new with you?”

 

“Ah, ya know, same old, same old.” Zel held the glass in his hand up to the light, eyeing the contents before taking a generous gulp. “Kickin’ ass, takin’ names, fuckin’ bitches, the usual.”

 

“All in a day’s work,” Levi said with an amused grin.

 

Zel raised his glass once again, as if to toast him. “Just doin’ my job.” He took another drink before setting the tumbler on the end table to his right.

 

“I’m not sure that bedding women is part of your job description,” said Levi, still grinning.

 

“It’s one of the perks, right?” Zel plucked the ashtray from Levi’s desk and set it next to his glass. “I mean, it’s not like you pay me or anything.” He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, followed shortly by a lighter.

 

Levi shrugged his shoulders. “Do you require additional compensation?”

 

Zel lit his cigarette, sucking hard on the initial drag. “I mean, if you’re offerin’...”

 

Levi’s palms spread open momentarily, then he laced his fingers back together. “Are you unhappy with your line of work?” The small upward twitch of his lips revealed the playfulness of his query.

 

“Naw. It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it,” Zel answered in kind.

 

Catching a whiff of Zel’s cigarette, Levi began fishing for one of his own. “So...” he began, retrieving one from the metal case in his breast pocket. “Any security updates?”

 

Zel grabbed the ashtray from the end table and replaced it on Levi’s desk, roughly equidistant between them. “Pretty quiet the past coupla weeks,” he said casually, ashing his cigarette before leaning back in his chair.

 

“Good,” said Levi, sparking up his cigarette. He pulled a generous cloud of smoke into his lungs, then leaned back as he exhaled it towards the ceiling. “Quiet is good.”

 

“There was a minor incident with some of the girls, though.”

 

Levi’s face remained relaxed as he continued to settle into his chair. “Oh?”

 

“Nothin’ major. Just some more Maggie bullshit.”

 

Levi put his hand to his forehead, massaging the center of it with his fingertips. “Ah, good old Maggie,” he said sarcastically. “What did she do this time?”

 

“Harassing one of the newbies. Basically making life a living hell for anyone younger and prettier than she is.”

 

“Hmph,” Levi grunted, shifting forwardand pressing his upper body into the desk. “Who was her target?”

 

Zel stopped to take a swig of his drink, then smacked his lips resonantly before going on. “You remember that girl you had me pick up in the middle of the night a coupla months ago?”

 

Instead of a yes or a no, Levi’s expression went completely blank. Fortunately, it appeared that Zel wasn’t paying him too much attention. At least not enough to notice. And in the span of time it took Zel to look down at the ashtray and tap the end of his cigarette, Levi knitted his brows and laid his chin nonchalantly in his hand. “Maybe,” he said dismissively. “Remind me.”

 

“You know, the murderer?” Zel said impetuously. “You couldn’t get permission from the constable, so I had to bribe a guard and sneak in there.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Levi said with a curt nod. “Eden. She isn’t causing any trouble, is she?”

 

“No. But Maggie sure as hell gave her some. Sarah May threw one of her house parties a few nights ago. Eden decided to show up. I guess since she’s been here, she’s still been wearing a veil. Then she said some words that Maggie took personal, and things got a little physical.”

 

“Physical?” Levi repeated, his eyebrows arching ever so slightly.

 

“Nothin’ too bad. Ripped the veil off her head. Poor thing was pretty shook up.”

 

The corners of Levi’s mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed a little. “Did you take care of it?”

 

“Take care of what?”

 

“Maggie.”

 

“What? No way!” he said, sweeping his hand to the side. “That’s Ashia’s job. I’m not touchin’ it.”

 

Levi paused, rubbing the end of his chin thoughtfully with his knuckle. “How did you find out about this?”

 

“I was at Sarah’s that night. Ran into Eden right after it happened.”

 

“Was she hurt?” he asked, his straight brow casting a shadow over his eyes.

 

“Naw. Just shook up, like I said.” Zel snickered under his breath, raising his cigarette to his mouth for another puff. “I calmed her down, though.”

 

Levi slid his palm over his forehead, shielding his face as he looked down at his desk. “Hm,” was all he said.

 

As Zel considered what to say next, there was a light knock on the outer door of Levi’s office.

 

“Come in,” he said, raising his voice but not moving in the slightest.

 

Ashia tiptoed through the entrance, closing the door on the latch gingerly behind her. “Good evening,” she said, making her way into the room and standing next to Zel.

 

Levi lifted his head and acknowledged her presence with a gentle smile. “Good evening, my dear. Please, have a seat.”

 

Ashia let out an airy sigh as she sat down across from the desk, then gracefully laid one leg over the other. “Thank you.”

 

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, standing up and turning towards the bar behind him.

 

“Whiskey sour,” she exhaled. “It’s been a long day.”

 

“That bad, huh?” Zel chided.

 

“Not that bad,” Ashia groaned, taking the glass that Levi offered to her. “Just tiring. When everyone feels the need to come to me with every little problem...” She paused to take a large swallow of her beverage. “There isn’t a lot of time for anything else.”

 

Levi resumed sitting at his desk, holding an opaque brown drink of his own. “Do you need some time off?” he asked, his serious eyes softening with a touch of concern.

 

“No, I’ll be fine.” Ashia flicked her wrist, the bangles on her arm clinking together as she laid it back upon the armrest.

 

“Very well,” he said with a terse nod. “Please let me know if you require any assistance in the future. I don’t want you to tire yourself out.”

 

“Not much to be done, I’m afraid, since we cut back on opiate production.”

 

Levi gulped a mouthful of liquor down his throat and held up his hand. “Please,” he said evenly, following a satisfied breath, “Let’s wait until-”

 

The three of them turned their heads to the door as four sharp knocks struck the surface.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Zel grinned.

 

“Come in!” Levi shouted, pushing his voice through the vestibule and penetrating the door.

 

A woman in a long red dress glided through, whipping the door shut behind her. “Did I miss anything?”

 

“No, Elizabeth. Please...” Levi gestured to the empty seat next to Ashia.

 

As she plopped down, a hiss of air escaped from the leather cushion beneath her. “Sorry I’m late.”

 

“Right on time, actually.” Levi reached into his vest and pulled out a silver pocket watch, glancing at it momentarily before snapping it closed.

 

Zel inhaled sharply through his nostrils. “I don’t smell ‘em on you. Either Silus is getting more impatient or you’re getting better,” Zel teased.

 

“I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself,” Elizabeth said tersely, lighting a cigarette.

 

Levi acknowledged their repartee with a click of his tongue, then went on with jerk of his head. “A drink, Elizabeth?” he offered.

 

“Vodka,” she stated flatly.

 

“Anything to wash the taste out, huh?” Zel added, tossing his head back and inhaling a cloud of smoke.

 

Elizabeth simply rolled her eyes, then took the drink that Levi handed to her. “Thank you,” she said with a pained smile.

 

Levi resumed his seat at his desk. “Very well. Now that we’re all here, let’s begin.” He snubbed his half-finished cigarette out in the ashtray and sat back, giving the drink in his hand a swirl. “Any new business?”

 

Zel shrugged. “Everyone knows about the situation with Thad and Paladin Garner, right?”

 

Ashia nodded, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I’ve only heard about it twenty times,” the blonde snickered.

 

“I’m reaching out to the Archbishop of Jericho personally,” Levi said. “Hopefully, he won’t hold this against us.”

 

“He seemed cordial the last time I talked to him,” Ashia added. “I doubt he will.”

 

“Did you talk to Thaddeus?” asked Elizabeth.

 

“I discussed the situation with him, yes,” said Levi. “He’s willing to focus his efforts on the Archbishop for now. I explained to him that it would be a far more advantageous relationship than with Garner.”

 

“I’m glad he’s seen reason,” Ashia said with a sigh. “I was worried he may have fallen for the Paladin.”

 

“He values wealth above anything,” Levi said, confidently polishing off his drink. “He’s more than willing to cooperate.”

 

The trio in front of him gave a few nods and grunts of affirmation. When it appeared the matter required no further deliberation, he went on. “Very well. Any other business?”

 

“Yeah,” Zel snorted, cramming the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray. “You’re gonna take care ‘a Maggie, right Ashia?”

 

She gulped her drink and lowered her chin in affirmation. “I’ve already spoken to her about the incident.”

 

“Wait, what happened?” Elizabeth asked with a scowl.

 

“Just a minor spat between some of the girls,” Ashia answered curtly. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

 

“With who?”

 

“You know Maggie, yes?” she asked. “She had an altercation with one of the new employees. A girl by the name of Eden.”

 

Levi kept his expression neutral, while Zel huffed and lit another cigarette. Elizabeth raised a corner of her mouth and arched her brows, then sipped her drink. “Hm. That’s funny.”

 

“Oh?” Ashia pressed, leaning towards her.

 

“Eden Bennett?” she asked, turning towards Ashia.

 

“I believe so, yes.”

 

“That is her last name, if I recall,” Levi interjected. “Why do you mention it?”

 

“Well...” Elizabeth tossed her head back and downed the rest of her drink, then slammed the glass on Levi’s desk. “That girl is a problem, apparently.”

 

“Who, Maggie?” Zel asked. “She’s been a problem since day one.”

 

“No, Eden.”

 

The corner of one of Levi’s eyebrows went up. “Eden is a problem?” he reiterated, shifting in his seat.

 

“ _She_ isn’t a problem, per se,” Elizabeth said cautiously. “But she’s caught the attention of some of the higher-ups.”

 

Levi’s fingers slipped into his vest and he withdrew his cigarette case. “Explain,” he said, not bothering to give her eye contact as he lit his smoke.

 

“Michael talked to me the other day. Said she was a murderer. Is that true?”

 

Ashia set her drink to the side and ran her fingers through her wavy, dark hair. “That was the crime the Inquisition accused her of,” she said neutrally.

 

“If you ask her, she’s innocent,” added Zel. “Not that it matters.”

 

“Indeed it doesn’t,” Elizabeth said, folding her hands in her lap. “Which is precisely the issue.” She cut herself off before going on, her inflection ending irresolutely.

 

“What did Michael say?” Levi asked, his eyes meeting hers for a split second.

 

Elizabeth briefly appeared apprehensive, but went on assuredly. “He wanted me to ask you to give her up.” Her voice cracked a little at the end of her sentence, but she willed herself to stay even through the rest of it. “He said that the Inquisition were getting questions, and that the Archbishop of Bethel knew about it. He threatened to… not outwardly, but… he pretty much said that if we didn’t give her to the Inquisition, there might be a problem.”

 

“I see.” Levi had finished his drink. He stood up and turned his back to them, then gave himself another generous helping of liquor from the bar, keeping his unlit cigarette tight between his fingers. “What did you say to him?”

 

“I said I’d talk to you,” she said, crinkling her nose. “It’s not like he gave me much of a choice.”

 

“What’s the big deal?” Zel said, stretching his legs out in front of him and reaching his hands behind his head. “They pick now to have a problem with the business?”

 

“He said that harboring a murderess set an ‘unhealthy precedent’,” she said, crossing her arms. “And that he was having trouble smoothing things over, since it’s such a high profile case.”

 

“Ah. So it’s primarily Michael’s problem?” Levi said with a condescending grin.

 

“For now,” she said solemnly. But he pretty much threatened to tell his boss if we don’t do something about it.”

 

“Pfft. Michael’s such a pussy,” Zel groaned. “He’s just trying to cover his ass.”

 

“Be that as it may,” Ashia piped up, “Michael usually doesn’t make empty threats. If it’s serious to him, then we should probably take it seriously, too.”

 

“What were his terms?” Levi asked, resting his chin on his folded hands and focusing on Elizabeth.

 

“He requested that you turn the girl back over to the Inquisition,” she replied, emotionless. “Let her face justice. Satisfy the Kingdom and the families of her victim.”

 

“Hmph!” Levi leaned back in his chair, then swung his feet up and rested them on the desk. Tossing his head back, he slammed down the rest of his drink, then set the glass down on the desk before sliding his hands back behind his head. “Of course I will do no such thing.”

 

Zel and Ashia shared a quick look between them, cutting it off before Levi could notice. “I figured as much,” Elizabeth relented. “How would you like me to phrase your response to Michael?”

 

“Now hang on a second,” Zel began, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re not even gonna think about it? You’re gonna pick this hill to die on?”

 

“I have to agree with Zel,” Ashia said cautiously. “They make very few demands of us, and we’ve been able to avoid confrontation for a long time now...”

 

“Why should _he_ choose to target one of my employees, for no other reason than the controversy of her accusation?” Levi spat, shifting his shoulders against the back of his chair.

 

“You have to admit, it’s uncommon,” Elizabeth said affably. “It’s been a while since we took someone in who was accused of something so serious.”

 

“ _Accused.”_ Levi planted his feet on the floor, then straightened his back. “There’s no proof that she murdered him.”

 

“So you’re aware of the details, then?” Elizabeth cocked her head at him and raised an eyebrow knowingly.

 

“Of course,” he replied dismissively. “It was a lack of evidence that influenced my decision to hire her.”

 

“There are no other suspects in this case,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Lack of evidence aside, we cannot reasonably shield her as a prime suspect. Her motives are more than-”

 

“Motives aside, there is no evidence.” Glancing at the cigarette he had been holding in his fingers, Levi finally sparked it up, tossing his lighter noisily on the desk. “Unless they provide me with something tangible, there’s no reason to hand her over.”

 

“Surely you must consider the consequences,” Ashia interjected, almost pleading. “Guilty or innocent, the charge is quite serious.”

 

“Yeah,” said Zel, shaking the hair from his eyes. “I know you got a thing for these humans, but you gotta draw the line somewhere.”

 

“Does El know about this?” Ashia asked, her full brows lowering over her intense, dark eyes.

 

“Not yet,” Elizabeth said smoothly at her. “But the local authorities know. And it’s only a matter of time before Silus and El get wise.”

 

“It’s not Silus we gotta worry about,” said Zel gravely, putting another cigarette to his lips.

 

“Indeed,” Ashia said with a nod. “He has a vested interest in The Inn, and with Elizabeth’s influence, he’s not likely to make a fuss. El, on the other hand...”

 

“El’s got a short fuse,” Zel said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “He can turn this into a big deal, if he wants to.”

 

“Michael seems like he doesn’t want to escalate things unnecessarily. If we take care of this now, El never has to know.”

 

“But is there an alternative? Some sort of compromise that can be reached? El is not opposed to negotiation in such matters.”

 

“Sometimes,” Zel said, rolling his eyes. “But do you really wanna chance it?”

 

“Especially when the consequences are-”

 

“That’s enough.”

 

Levi’s deep baritone cut through the conversation. He didn’t have to shout. The thunder in his voice was sufficient to snap them into silence. Pensively, they looked to him, unsure but receptive to whatever his orders might be.

 

He paused, ensuring that their attentions had been redirected towards him before he went on. The sudden tension in his shoulders dissipated, and he calmly ashed his cigarette. “I’ve made my decision. The girl will remain here. We will not be turning her over to the Inquisition.”

 

Ashia and Zel nervously averted their eyes, taking tiny sips of their drinks. Elizabeth looked cross but understanding, and took a deep breath as she processed what Levi had said. “Very well,” she said, her lips flattening into a straight line. “What would you have me say?”

 

Levi inhaled a cloud of smoke. For a brief second he kept it in his lungs, eyeing the cigarette in his fingers as he twisted the filtered end between them. Letting out his breath, he rubbed the center of his forehead with his thumb, as if worn down from the whole ordeal.

 

“Tell him...” he began, pausing to collect himself. “Ask him to conduct an autopsy.”

 

“Sir?” Elizabeth prodded, hoping for clarification.

 

“The Coroner concluded that the cause of death was arsenic poisoning, but he never conducted a formal autopsy.” Levi pushed himself up on his forearms, honing in on Elizabeth directly. “Exhume the body. If arsenic poisoning was indeed the cause of death, it should be evident upon examination of his corpse. If not, the Inquisition must relent that it does not have sufficient evidence for a murder conviction. Therefore, I am well within any previous agreements to keep her in my employ.”

 

Elizabeth gave a curt nod of affirmation. “Very well. And if they should find evidence that Eden is in fact a murderer?”

 

Levi laid his arms out, holding his palms up and smiling calmly. “Then I shall concede. Eden will be returned to the Kingdom’s custody.”

 

Ashia gulped, doing her best to make it inaudible. Zel puffed on his cigarette, flexing and relaxing his neck muscles, but declining comment.

 

“Will that be satisfactory?” Levi pressed, barring a response.

 

Elizabeth gave a cordial nod. “Most satisfactory.” She tried to sound confident, but the way her hands tightened around each other and her pulse quickened, she was anything but. Still, there wasn’t anything she could say that would change his mind. Levi was a man who knew what he wanted, and rarely defaulted on his decisions. That was the end of the matter. Their hand had been dealt, and the chips were down. She knew better than to argue.

 

For a few seconds, the room was devoid of sound apart from the slow, thoughtful breaths of its inhabitants. Levi swept his eyes from left to right, analyzing the abject faces of the three people before him. “Is there any other business to discuss?” he asked tersely, his steely eyes bouncing from one face to another.

 

“Nah, boss,” Zel said with a cool smile, snuffing out his cigarette.

 

“I don’t believe so,” Ashia added, doing her best to keep her face neutral and unaffected.

 

“Right then.” Levi stood up, taking one last drag before smashing his cigarette into the ashtray. Then, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants, he turned away from them, pacing towards the window behind his desk. “This meeting is adjourned.”


	8. Chapter 8

“After your regular rounds, I need you to go to the top floor and do Levi’s office.”

 

Catherine’s instructions hit Eden like a slap to the face. She blinked rapidly, then leaned her head in to the old woman who was making notes at her desk. “I… I beg your pardon?”

 

“Jean called in sick. She usually does Levi’s room.” The woman snorted a wad of mucous back into her throat, then swallowed it.

 

Eden tried to hide her disgust at the sound. “So… you want me to do it?”

 

“You’ve been doing a good job so far.” Catherine’s eyes bounced from one pile of papers to another. Her fingertips danced over several documents as she decided which one she would examine next. In the wake of Eden’s startled silence, she raised her head and eyed the girl. There was no color in her face – in fact, it looked like she was about to pass out. Though the old woman was usually very detached, the sight of Eden made Catherine’s expression melt in sympathy. She was younger than most of the maids. The vast majority of them were women past their prime, women who had either gotten too old or too disillusioned to to keep whoring themselves out to the clergy. It was highly unusual for her to be in charge of such a naive and inexperienced young woman.

 

“Don’t worry,” she added, noting the way Eden wrung her hands. “Just treat it like any other room. He’s not very picky. Just make sure you dust and vacuum, and try not to rearrange anything.”

 

Eden’s head bounced up and down several times, but her eyes were lowered, and she quivered with hesitation. Reflexively, she reached up to tuck her veil behind her ear, then awkwardly let her arm drop as she realized she wasn’t wearing it. Ever since the incident with Maggie, she thought it best to do without it, if for no other reason than to avoid another confrontation. But she was still so uncomfortable without it, she refused to leave her room without pinning up her hair in the tightest bun she could manage. If she had to show her head, she reasoned, she’d show as little of it as possible.

 

“Do you want me to get someone else to do it?” Catherine asked.

 

“No!” Eden looked up sharply, her sincere expression meeting Catherine’s indiscriminate one. As apprehensive as she was to take on such an important task, her primary motivation was to please. The old woman’s scrupulous visage reminded her of Mother Josephine, the Abbess who had dominated her life since infancy. It was almost instinctive for her to follow her orders, and Eden’s inherent fear of punishment made her not only willing but enthusiastic with every request. “I can do it,” she said assuredly, hardening her resolve as much as she could.  
  
Catherine gave a nasally chuckle. “Yes, I’m sure you can.”

 

Eden gave a small curtsy, but remained where she was. Catherine had gone back to poring over her papers. The next thirty seconds stretched out awkwardly for Eden, who was too caught off-guard to get mobilized.

 

Eventually, the old woman noticed the girl still was still standing in front of her, and gave her a quick but derisive glare. “Was there anything else?”

 

Eden shook her head noiselessly.

 

“Alright then, get to work,” she said flatly, a touch of annoyance tightening the muscles of her wrinkled face. Hurriedly, the girl turned and walked purposefully out of the room, fearful of angering the old woman any further.

 

Eden’s lips were sealed shut for the rest of that morning. Normally, she would make small talk with the other women while she stocked her cart with cleaning supplies and fresh linens. But the impending thought of cleaning Levi’s office made her blood pressure rise, and she was hyperfocused on her routine tasks. Consequently, the rest of her normal workday was a complete blur. Like an automaton, she went from room to room, finishing each one with impeccable attention to detail, while also, somehow, forgetting what she had done entirely as soon as she stepped out the door.

 

Once she was done with her regular shift, and in record time no less, she boarded the service elevator. Hand shaking visibly as she pushed the button, she began her ascent to the top floor.

 

The elevator door appeared to open in slow motion. Carefully she stepped out into the hall, pushing her cart along in front of her. In her uneasiness, she kept swallowing her saliva, attempting to stay conscious and in the moment. But her mouth had been drying out as the day wore on, and by the time she had reached the top floor, each gulp was scratchy and painful. She was desperate for a glass of water, or even a cigarette, if it might steady her nerves.

 

But she plowed forward, eventually reaching the rustic oak door of Levi’s office.

 

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

“Housekeeping!”

 

The word cracked as she pushed it out of her throat. Too jittery to wait for an answer, she turned the knob and carefully pushed the door open, tugging her cart along behind her.

 

Despite her months of service, Levi remained a mysterious figure. She had not spoken to him since their initial meeting, and had only ever seen him in passing. Every time she saw him, he was always preoccupied, speaking to a guest, talking business with one of the higher-ups, or otherwise focused on something that made him oblivious to the activity around him. Which was fortunate, as Eden couldn’t help but stare at him whenever he was in her field of view.

 

It was only the second time she had been in his office. She remembered the large, antique globe in the spacious vestibule, and the rows of books. The shelves wrapped around from the door, stretching to either side and coming together around a wide doorway.

 

 _Should I do this room first?_ Eden wondered.

 

Without deliberating on it any further, she plucked out the feather duster from her cart and started running it along the shelves. Apparently, this nook served merely as a storage space for his various tomes. There were no signs of it being used recently, and it took less than a minute for her to clean the space to her satisfaction.

 

Once she was finished, she snuck back around her cart and leaned forward, aiming it through the wooden arch leading into his office. She almost hesitated on the way in; however, remembering her purpose, she did her best to squelch her reservations and dutifully pressed on.

 

“H-housekeeping?” she squeaked again, whipping her head to either side. A part of her had hoped Levi would answer. Then, knowing the room was occupied, she could turn around and leave, passing the responsibility off to the next shift.

 

But she had no such luck. All she could hear was the steady pendulum of a grandfather clock.

 

She exhaled heavily through her nostrils and straightened her back. _Time to get to work._

 

Eden snapped on a pair of yellow latex gloves and gathered her cleaning supplies, determined to make this as quick as possible. Without overthinking where to start, she immediately began pushing the items on his desk to one side so she could polish it.

 

After ensuring each small affect was replaced exactly where she found it, Eden moved on to wiping out the crevices of the leather armchairs. Then she cleaned the windows. Then emptied the trash cans. And with each task she made it her goal to think about what she was doing as little as possible. The less she knew about Levi the better, as far as she was concerned.

 

Yet as she took up her feather duster and swept it along the ledges of yet another wall of bookshelves, her curiosity began to get the better of her. It was necessary to lift the spines of the volumes to do her job thoroughly. And in the process, she found herself reading the titles of nearly every one.

 

Books had always held a special fascination for Eden. Growing up, her selection was limited to the religious texts present at the convent. In fact, they numbered so few that she had probably memorized them all.

 

The library in the Inn’s lounge was certainly ample, and she was quick to take advantage. Reading didn’t appear to be a popular leisure activity, however, as she frequently found herself filling out several consecutive entries in the library’s ledger before another name and title appeared. When Levi first mentioned that she had unfettered access to all of those books, she nearly exploded from excitement. But as she was soon to discover, most of the library’s contents consisted of tawdry, and often lewd, volumes of fiction. The first time she had accidentally begun reading one of these inappropriate stories, she had promptly returned it, followed by a fervent and desperate session of prayers begging for forgiveness. They were without question books that would be burned by the Inquisition if they were ever discovered.

 

There were a few gems to be found, though; namely compilations of poetry and fairy tales, plus a handful of epic tales dating back to the time of the ancient Greeks. The subject matter was much more tame, but as she devoured book after book, it became apparent that these weren’t suitable Kingdom reading material either. Sexual innuendos and references to pagan Gods abounded. But even though she was acutely aware of their forbidden nature, she found the plethora of unread volumes at her fingertips too tempting to ignore.

 

Despite the thrill of so much discovery, as she picked her way through the titles she found readable, she had become somewhat disheartened. Eden had hoped to come across more in the way of non-fiction. Her favorites at the convent were books pertaining to Nicaean and Biblical history, mathematics, botany, and medicine.

 

And as she ingested each title while she dusted along Levi’s bookshelf, a renewed upwelling of giddiness and curiosity surged in her guts.

 

 _The Axe and the Oath: A History of Medieval Europe. The Edo Period. Western Civilization: 1450-16_ _5_ _0\. Life in the Tang Dynasty. Classic Cinema in the Silent Film Era._ It all sounded so alien it may has well have been a foreign language. But the subject matter was obvious from the context.

 

Her hands began to tremble as she moved on to the next set of shelves. _The Prince – by Niccolo Machiavelli. The Complete Works of Plato: Unabridged. Kant’s Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. Nietzsche._

 

They were old to say the least. Some were hardly legible. In others, the binding had disintegrated to the point where the pages fell out when she lifted the cover.

 

Eden couldn’t read the titles fast enough, and found herself slowing the swishing of her duster as she labored to absorb each and every one. _The Logic of Chemical Synthesis. Elementary Chemistry. The Periodic Table. Advanced Chemistry. Biochemistry. Organic Chemistry. Quantum Chemistry._ Who knew there were so many variants of one subject?

 

As she finished one case and moved to the next, she could hear her heartbeat pulsing behind her eardrums. _Principia Mathematica. Ptolemy: Almagest. Ptolemy: Geography._ Not a single author was one she had heard of. Keppler, Freud, Newton, Marx, Hawking, Leibniz, Enstein… her head was swimming from the onslaught as she struggled to commit it all to memory. There was no guarantee that she would ever have the opportunity to see such a magnificent collection again.

 

As she came to the end of another row, following a volume named “On the Origin of Species,” there was a small but notable gap between it and the side of the shelf. Poking her feather duster into the narrow slit, she was surprised to feel the resistance of a weighted object.

 

Not forgetting her purpose for being there, she slid her hand in and picked up the item, what she assumed to be a book-end, and swept a few motes of dust onto the starched fabric of her apron. But as she went to replace it, she froze where she stood, examining the object with unblinking eyes as she held it in her outstretched palm.

 

_A… A woman?_

 

The ceramic figurine didn’t exceed the length of her hand, but the detail was extraordinary. The features on her delicate face were crisp and precise; her little lips, painted cherry red, cheeks blushing warmly against sandy-colored skin, slivers of ebony locks flowing beneath a baby blue veil, and even her little eyes – though they were closed, each individual eyelash was clearly discernible. Her expression was one of serenity. Her arms hung loosely against her sides. The gentle curves of her body gave shape to a flowing gown of pure white, each billowing fold painstakingly crafted into the stony cast.

 

Tepidly, Eden ran the tip of her index finger along the face. The cool smoothness of its surface combined with the woman’s peaceful face lulled her into a gentle trance that made her surroundings fade out of focus, and her work was momentarily forgotten.

 

“Where is Jean?”

 

Eden sucked in a terrified breath and spun around, instinctively hiding her guilty hands behind her back. “S-sir!” she uttered, little more than a whisper.

 

The door from which Levi was emerging had gone totally unnoticed, both presently and during their meeting after she had first arrived. As he closed it behind him, it almost vanished, disappearing seamlessly into the pattern of the wood paneling and wallpaper. After it had clicked shut, he turned back to her, noting her bewilderment. “I suppose Catherine neglected to tell you that my bedroom is just next door.”

 

Eden answered with a shaky nod.

 

“No matter,” he said, sauntering into the room. “I prefer to clean it myself.” He moseyed over to the front of his desk, retrieving the cigarette case he had left there and tucking it into the pocket of his vest. He was always wearing a suit, but this was the first time she had seen him without a jacket. She swallowed thickly, warily examining the girth of his unflexed bicep bulging through his white sleeves.

 

“I apologize for disturbing you,” Eden said, unable to maintain any steadiness in her voice.

 

“Not necessary,” he said flatly. “I’m only a little surprised to see someone other than Jean up here.”

 

Eden attempted to collect herself, recalling Levi’s initial question. “J-jean is sick today, sir. Catherine sent me in her place.”

 

Levi suddenly looked up from his desk, the slight squint of his eyes hinting at a deeper concern. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t believe so, Sir.”

 

He grunted in affirmation, then paced behind his desk and pulled out his chair.

 

She began to panic. It looked like he was going to make himself comfortable. Even though she could have probably replaced the figurine without him seeing, she didn’t trust in her ability to slip it back into place without making some kind of noise. _What’s the big deal?_ She chided herself. _You had to move it to clean the shelf. It’s not like you were doing anything wrong._

 

But it was more than that. More than being caught touching something she shouldn’t. More than her innate fear of Levi’s daunting form hovering nearby. More than the thought of a punishment from Catherine.

 

As with nearly everything else in her life, it all boiled down to her fear of God, of hell, and of eternal damnation.

 

_Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image._

 

Seeing it was sin enough. Recalling the way she had held it, the way she had so reverently caressed it, caused a combination of dread and nauseous guilt to seize her by the throat. She gripped the little woman in her hands tighter, locking her elbows behind her back.

 

“I am almost done… I-I only have the floor left to vacuum. Would you prefer to wait in your room until I am finished?”

 

“Carry on with your duties. You won’t disturb me.”

 

She had hoped her suggestion didn’t come out too forcefully, or too desperately. But as he readied to sit down, he paused, then shifted his gaze back towards the girl.

 

Whether it was the tone of her voice or simply the awkwardness of her posture, there was no getting past him. Methodically, he began making his way over to her, one firm and confident step at a time. “Is there something wrong?” he asked, his voice low and thick with accusation.

 

“N-no!” she stammered. Her heartbeat quickened as she watched his approach. Her palms grew clammy, and she struggled to keep a firm hold on the ceramic figure in her fist.

 

Levi cocked his head to the side, frowning dubiously. “What do you have behind your back?”

 

The rumbling, shadowy thunder of his voice grew even darker. Soft as it was, its power vibrated her to the core, shooting out to her limbs and causing every single hair on her body to stand on end. Her face grew hot, tingling with the adrenaline of terror.

 

He was upon her now, so close that she could feel his heat. She craned her head upwards, meeting his cold eyes with her own wide and fearful stare. She started with a jump and winced as he raised his hand, no doubt in preparation to strike her.

 

But as several agonizing seconds of inaction followed, Eden willed her eyes back open, carefully peering at the man in front of her.

 

He just stood there, calmly, his large hand open and held out to her non-threateningly.

 

“If you have something of mine, I’d like you to return it.”

 

In spite of the situation, his words carried a note of kindness and patience that she had not heard from him before. As if he were speaking to a child.

 

And, like a child, Eden looked down at her feet, guiltily placing the little object in his hands.

 

Levi breathed heavily in and out. But instead of the verbal reprimand she was expecting, he let out a ‘hmph’ of satisfaction. “Where did you find this?”

 

Eden’s form remained rigid and tense, and she dared to peek back up at him beneath her flickering lashes. “On the shelf.” She turned and slid her fingers in the gap where she had discovered it. “Right here.”

 

“I see.” He pinched the figurine between his thumb and forefinger and held it up. His lips were drawn up into a smile, though it was so slight that it was almost invisible, hidden in the dark hairs of his beard. “I shall have to give Jean a scolding the next time I see her. I’ve been trying to find it for months.”

 

Levi turned his back to her and began walking away, his eyes fixed on the figure. With a mindful touch, he placed it softly upon the center of his desk. Eden remained silent, her panic melting into a cautious optimism, and she followed him with her eyes until he stopped in front of his bar.

 

“Your name is Eden, is that right?” he asked, picking up a glass bottle and examining its contents.

 

“Y-yes Sir.”

 

“Would you like a drink, Eden?”

 

She could have passed out from the shock. Only seconds ago she had been paralyzed with fear, believing that she would be stripped of her job and thrown back out onto the streets, if not flat out killed. And now she was being offered refreshments. It took her a moment to get her bearings and respond.

 

“Y-yes. Thank you, Sir.” Her stomach was so tumultuous that she didn’t think she’d be able to keep it down, but it felt impolite to refuse him.

 

“What would you like?”

 

She stumbled over her thoughts again. This line of questioning was completely unexpected. “Um… whiskey?” she asked, taking a few small steps forward.

 

“You don’t seem very sure about that,” he replied with a chuckle.

 

“I just… I don’t know what you have.”

 

“Considering the heat, perhaps you’d care for something a bit more refreshing?”

 

He glanced up at her, awaiting a response.

 

“Uh… sure.” She was so nervous she would have agreed to anything. Frantically, she tried to wrap her mind around the situation. It was odd enough, receiving this kind of hospitality. But to have it come from Levi was beyond unexpected.

 

“Please, sit down.” He gestured behind him towards the armchairs with his elbow before going back to making his drinks. “Don’t worry about finishing up in here. Jean can take care of it next week.” Eden did as he requested, though with a substantial bit of hesitation. She stared at his back for a few seconds, clutching her hands together in her lap. When he finally turned around, he held two drinks, graciously extending one to her. “And please, the formalities aren’t necessary. Call me Levi.”

 

“Thank you Si-- I mean, thank you, Levi.” Her hands were still so sweaty she was surprised she didn’t drop the glass when she took it.

 

He took a hearty swallow of his own, letting out a contented sigh as he sat down on the front edge of his desk. He was tall enough, Eden noticed, that his neat black dress shoes rested flat on the floor. Setting the glass next to him, he took out his cigarette case. Without even asking, he opened it and held it out to her.

 

Gingerly she plucked one out, then he politely lit it before sparking up one of his own.

 

Eden took a small sip of her beverage. It was sweet and minty, with several green leaves clinging to the ice cubes. Finding it more than palatable, she took a larger gulp. Almost instantly she could feel its effects and settled back into her chair, her apprehension melting along with the ice in her glass.

 

“I appreciate you recovering that trinket for me. Though I have to ask: were you planning on stealing it?”

 

Eden coughed on the mouthful of liquid that threatened to leap into her throat. “No!” she protested with genuine innocence.

 

“I’m merely curious as to why you felt the need to hide it.”

 

She was ashamed to admit her true motivations. But as she was rapidly finding out, as intimidating as Levi was, he was surprisingly understanding. Even when he was posing as a priest and trying to get a confession out of her, he was far more patient than she had any right to expect.

 

Grudgingly, she relented. “To be honest, I don’t know what I was thinking. When I saw it,” she paused, giving a sideways glance to the little statue that had caused her so much grief, “I was… I’ve never seen anything like that before. And I thought it was beautiful. But then I realized it was a sin. So when you came in, I… I was frightened. I thought I was going to get in trouble.”

 

“What, for looking at it?”

 

She gave an affirmative bob of her head.

 

“Ha!” he grunted, following another drink. “My dear, do you really think that looking at a ceramic figure is a sin?”

 

His incredulity made it even more embarrassing somehow. “I’ve heard stories about people getting life sentences for graven images.”

 

Levi paused, taking a thoughtful drag of his cigarette. “It never ceases to amaze me...” he began, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. “The absurdity of these Theocratic types.” With one more large swallow he finished off his drink, the ice cubes tinkling as he set it on the desk. “You know not so many years ago, graven images were at the forefront of Christian artistry.”

 

Eden remained silent, only giving him an inquisitive look as she waited for him to elaborate.

 

“Churches were filled with statues, pictures, carvings… of saints, of Christ. Even God Himself has been depicted more than once. Laymen would wear gold pendants in the likeness of holy men. They would carry charms and trinkets, put statues on their lawns because they thought it would help sell their homes!” He chuckled wryly and shook his head. “And now, children can’t even play with faceless dolls, lest they be tortured for their sacrilege.”

 

“But...” Eden ventured, taking care to keep her tone humble. “Those people were heretics, weren’t they? That’s why Father Joshua founded Nicaea.”

 

He gave her an indulgent smirk. “Yes, that’s what they taught you, isn’t it?”

 

Eden could only frown in confusion and puff on her cigarette.

 

“This world is far more complicated than those in power would have you believe.” He extinguished his cigarette, then folded his arms calmly across his chest. “One man’s heretic is another man’s prophet. One man’s sinner is another man’s saint. And one man’s devil is another man’s god.”

 

She shouldn’t have been as shocked as she was to hear him say it. After all, Levi was in charge of this den of iniquity. But still, hearing it out loud made her tremble with fright, as if god would strike her down for allowing herself to hear such things. “Do you really believe that?” she asked, somewhat accusatory.

 

“I’ve seen a lot over the years. And I’ve done a lot of reading, too. If you didn’t notice, I’m especially fond of history predating the Kingdom,” he said, nodding towards the bookshelves.

 

Part of her wanted to argue his assumptions, question whether or not he feared the wrath of god. But she suppressed the urge, knowing full well it would likely make no difference. Her eyes darted over to the shelves she had been dusting, recalling what she could about the titles she had read. “You have an amazing collection of books,” she said with awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice. “All of these books have been forbidden by the Kingdom.”

 

She took another sip of her drink and raised her eyebrows. “All of them?”

 

“Indeed.” He stood up, taking up his empty drink and heading back to the bar for another.

 

“That’s so strange...” She leaned back thoughtfully in her seat, staring at her cigarette, which had extinguished itself in the ashtray.

 

“Oh?” Levi commented over his shoulder as he stirred his second drink. Then he made his way back to her, reclaiming his seat on top of his desk. “Please, go on.”

 

“Well…” She still felt awkward speaking to Levi so candidly. Now that she was nearing the end of her drink, however, she found it much easier to loosen her lips. “I’ve been visiting the library downstairs. And _those_ books,” she almost sneered, “I mean, not all of them, but a lot of them are...” She took a moment, considering her choice of words carefully so as not to offend him. “I can understand why those are forbidden. But _these..._ ” She regarded the bookshelves again. “Why would the Kingdom want to ban a book on Elementary Chemistry?”

 

Levi smiled again, broader than she had ever seen. Swirling his drink in his hand, he sipped it, then raised it to her in a sort of toast. “Now that,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “ _That_ is an excellent question.”

 

Eden stared curiously at him, wondering why he didn’t simply give her an answer.

 

He gave her a knowing nod. “Why don’t you tell me? Why do _you_ think the Kingdom has forbidden a book on Elementary Chemistry?”

 

Eden balked at having the question turned back around on her. “I...” She set her now empty drink on the table next to her, then locked her fingers together nervously in her lap. “I honestly don’t know.”

 

Levi seemed to accept her response, even if he wasn’t satisfied with it. He pressed his lips together pensively and rolled to his feet. Eden watched quietly while he drifted over to the bookshelves. For a couple seconds he examined it, grasping the edge of his chin as if mulling it over. Then, apparently deciding on something, he pulled one of the books from the shelf.

 

Based on where he had removed it, she wasn’t surprised to see it was the book in question. What did surprise her, though, was Levi presenting it to her.

 

“I’m giving you a homework assignment.”

 

Eden tried not to gape as she timidly grasped the edges of the large, weighty volume.

 

“Take it with you. Read it cover-to-cover. And when you are finished with it, I want you to come back with an answer.”

 

She chewed the inside of her bottom lip, looking up at him with brows drawn fearfully together.

 

“There’s no correct or incorrect answer,” he assured her, seeing her hesitation. “I’m not trying to trick or deceive you. I’m merely interested to know what you think.”

 

Eden’s face remained stuck the way it was. _Why does he want to know what_ I _think?_ She wondered. As if her assessment was of any consequence.

 

While she was still trying to figure out his motives, Levi sat down behind his desk. He pulled out one of the drawers and removed a slip of paper, like the one he had used when giving Eden her initial work assignment. “Here is the number to my office,” he said, scribbling it down quickly. “Just give me a call when you’re done with it. If I’m not here, leave a message.”

 

Eden rose from her seat, reaching tepidly for the slip he held outstretched in his fingers. “Okay...”

 

Levi smiled in light of her insecurity, leaning back deeply in his chair. “Try not to think about it too much. If nothing else, perhaps you’ll learn a little something about chemistry.”

 

With her drink finished and Levi’s phone number and book in her hands, she felt that their conversation had come to its natural conclusion. She gave him a grateful bow, but as she turned to leave, a fresh wave of anxiety washed over her as she saw her unattended cart sitting by the doorway. “Oh my...” she gasped, looking at the clock on the wall.

 

Mildly amused at her sudden alarm, he sat forward and leaned on his forearms. “I suppose I should apologize for keeping you.”

 

“No, it’s alright!” she said, frantically gathering her cleaning supplies and putting them back in order. She placed the paper with Levi’s number in her pocket for safekeeping. Then, in her panic, she tossed the book underneath, letting it land on top of the soiled linens.

 

“Oh!” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she looked for Levi’s reaction. “I’m sorry!”

 

She reached for it, but Levi waved his arm dismissively through the air. “Don’t worry. That book has been through much worse than a pile of dirty laundry.”

 

Eden sighed with grateful relief. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, grabbing the handle of her cart and hurrying out the door. Realizing her mistake on her way out, she called back to him over her shoulder. “I mean, thank you, Levi!”


End file.
